


Clueless

by Nemerosa



Category: Ant-Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Ant-Man and the Wasp (2018), F/M, Fluff, High School, Romance, Slow Burn, Teen Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2020-02-10 20:05:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18667447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nemerosa/pseuds/Nemerosa
Summary: A high school AU in the Ant-Man 'verse. I wasn't able to find many and I thought this might be worth a shot... Inspired by Clueless, my general love of Paul Rudd and the Ant Man part of the MCU.In which Scott is generally still the handsome goof we all know and love, he's just younger. An intelligent slacker who could be something if he only applied himself more.Hope is the new transfer student who arrives and challenges him, academically and in other ways...





	1. 'Undecided'

Scott sat staring aimlessly out the window of his English classroom, hand propping up his head as the faint reflection of his grey-green eyes and scruffy dark hair blinked lazily back at him in the morning light. It _wasn't_ his _favourite_ subject and Luis had spent the last fifteen minutes giving a rambling answer to Mr Parker's question about what some of the important themes of this week’s chapter were. It had digressed at one point into yet another anecdote about his _abuelita_ before the tall man at the chalkboard decided to move on to someone else.  

" _Mr Lang?_ Would you care to tell everyone what you thought about this week's reading?" their teacher asked, his dark eyes now fixed firmly on the student staring out the window, who promptly jumped at the sound of his name.

 _Dammit! Why did he have to pick on me?_ Scott thought, his mind scrambling to begin forming an answer. The words, however, were not coming.

"Mr Lang?- " His teacher pressed, as Scott continued to try and find the words to finesse his way out of this one. Before he could continue, a sharp wrapping at the door to the classroom alerted them both to the sight of the assistant principal - Ms Reilly - entering the room, with a slender young girl with long, hazel coloured hair pulled into a high ponytail following close behind. He couldn't get a clear view of her, as she seemed to be hanging behind a bit - almost as if she didn't want to be there.

"Good morning everyone," the gentle, slight woman smiled, "as you can see, we have a new student starting here today. I'd like you all to make her feel welcome during her time here."

Despite Ms Reilly's friendly nature, it didn't stop a few of the class idiots - Scott didn't see himself in that bracket - from starting their usual welcome.

"Does _she_ have a _name_ , Ms Reilly?" asked Beckah, the Queen Bee of their year, "Because her _outfit_ seems to be doing _all_ the talking for her...". The look she and her cronies were giving the new arrival was cruel, but the young woman in the dark skinny crop jeans, grey hooded vest and longer black jacket stepped forward and calmly stared back - daring her to say anything else. Now that Scott could get a better look at her, he could see _why._

 _Beckah must be feeling threatened by her,_ he thought to himself, as he took her in. From what he could see of her: she was wiry, with high cheekbones, long-limbs and glossy brown hair.

" _'She'_ has a name, but she doesn't feel like telling _you_ it." The girl retorted; her shoulders set in defiance as she ran her eyes over the crowd of girls at the back of the class. Scott shot a sideways glance over to where Beckah sat, her mouth agape. He couldn’t help the smirk that spread across his features. It was about time she learned she couldn’t push everyone around.

 _"Well,"_ Ms Reilly began again, although this time her smile seemed much more forced, "I'm hoping at least _some_ of you, will make Miss Van Dyne feel _welcome._ " She finished her introduction with a firm look in the direction of Beckah, who was evidently still recovering from the very notion of someone not recognising her 'authority' - her lackeys fawning over her damaged pride. Then Ms Reilly bid farewell to their teacher, gave a tiny smile of reassurance to the new girl, turned her heel and was gone.

"My apologies Miss Van Dyne, but I think you've joined just at the end of class..." announced Mr Parker, glancing briefly down at his wristwatch. Thinking for a moment, he ran his hand through his dark curly hair, before deciding to release the class to their next lesson. " _All right,_ thank you everyone, that’s it for today. _Mr Lang_ , next time!" he smiled a little too enthusiastically at Scott. "I'm expecting everyone's essays by Friday. That means _2,000_ words Luis!"

 _Saved,_ Scott sighed in relief to himself. He began gathering his things, when he could sense someone standing next to him.

"What do you think _her_ story is then?" asked Luis, a semi-suspicious tone to his voice, as he gestured with his head to where ‘Miss Van Dyne’ stood in polite conversation with their earnest English teacher.

 _"Come on, man,"_ Scott chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief that his best friend had started to go down these rabbit holes already, _"Listen,_ I've got to get to Physics, I'll see you at lunch?" he smirked, clapping Luis on the shoulder as he moved past him towards the door.

"Yeah man, sure. I'll come get you after I finish shop!" his Latino companion grinned back broadly - giving him finger guns as well, for good measure.

Just as Scott had almost escaped to his double Physics, the sound of Mr Parker’s voice dragged him back. _"Mr Lang!"_

Scott paused completely in his stride - leg hovering in footfall - and _perhaps_ overdramatically swung himself back around. " _Yes..._ Mr Parker?" he responded, trying to muffle the disappointment in his voice. When he stopped, he was met by a hopeful look from his young teacher and an expression somewhere between confusion and amusement on the face of Miss Van Dyne.

"You were headed to Physics _\- am I right?"_ Mr Parker asked, but Scott was pretty sure he already knew the answer to his own question, by the way he asked it.

"Yes sir." Scott responded, trying to fight the urge to glance at his phone to check the time. He was going to be late - that much he knew - but was desperate to see how much by, so that he could figure out the best route to shave off some time.

"Miss Van Dyne was also going to be heading to Physics, but as she's knew here, she's not as familiar with the school layout," his teacher started to explain, a warm look in his hazel eyes. He gave Scott an expression which he knew meant that he was asking _him_ to _show_ her.

"I can read the map they gave me-" the young woman began to protest, a hint of irritation in her bright voice. Scott didn't know if it was directed at him or at their teacher. She must have realised how it sounded a few seconds later, because she soon switched tack, to a much more saccharine tone, "Really, it’s no trouble -they gave me one when I was dropped off this morning."

" _Don't worry,_ this one's _not_ like the others," Mr Parker laughed, nodding towards his student, obviously having decided it was _Scott_ that she had a problem with.

"I can _see_ that, sir..." she half-smiled, before watching Scott for a moment out of the corner of her eyes. He chose to act like he didn't notice - like he didn't care - but that look also irked him.

 _Is she messing with me?_ Scott wondered, growing increasingly impatient.

"I'll take her sir, which class?" he asked, taking all his willpower to suppress the exasperation he was feeling and keep a smile on his face. He also knew it was her first day and first day’s as a new kid were _hard._

 _"Yours,”_ his teacher responded, a knowing smile on his face – about what Scott couldn’t be sure - before he moved to open the door to his classroom for them, “Thank you, Mr. Lang."

Scott didn't miss the audible sigh she released as they started out into the corridor. _Great…_ he thought to himself.

"Do you - have a name?" Scott enquired, after they walked in complete silence for the full length of the English department.

 _Okay..._ He noted mentally, when she didn’t respond, inwardly cursing Mr Parker for making him be her tour guide.

 _"Yes,"_ she answered, abruptly and with a clipped manner to the way she spoke. Her almond shaped eyes narrowed in what Scott thought was annoyance. He couldn't hide the double-take he did when she actually _responded_ to his question.

"It’s just - I feel kinda _weird_ just calling you ‘Miss Van Dyne’ - it's like you're a teacher or all fancy or something," Scott laughed, unable to contain how funny and ridiculous the notion of calling her that for the rest of their time together seemed. He heard her footsteps halt and turned to find her looking at him incredulously.

"Maybe _I am_ a teacher, _or all fancy,_ what does it matter to _you?_ " She asked him, eyebrow raised in challenge and an edge now to her voice. Scott didn't know what he'd said that would have offended her, but he tried to backpedal as best he could.

 _"Well,_ it doesn't... matter I mean," he smiled gently, his olive-green eyes crinkling slightly and hoping that the action might smooth things out, "Who am I to judge?" he shrugged nonchalantly. Her tense shoulders visibly relaxed at that. Whatever he'd said that had put her on alert, _that_ seemed to have done the trick and they slowly resumed their walk to class.

"Why weren't you paying attention in class - are you _bad_ at it?" the girl asked, eyeing him as if she were sizing him up.

"Uh, _no,_ I'm not. I mean - I'm not the best and I really do like to read," he answered, running the back of his neck absentmindedly, the change in her demeanour having caught him off guard. She had gone from refusing to talk, to now interrogating him about his education. "-I'm not the worst either, I'd just read that chapter and Luis was-" he continued, before he was cut off by another one of her questions. His brow furrowed in confusion.

 _Where are these questions coming from?_ He wondered.

 _"Who's Luis?_ " She asked, her voice now softer, less a demand and more a genuine query.

"He's my best friend, I've known him since I was little," Scott replied, still surprised by her ongoing investigation of him. If he had based this journey on how she'd acted back in English, he'd have bet his best baseball cards that she would have marched next to him silent as the grave, the whole way to Physics.

"Was he the boy that was staring at me with _you_ back in Mr Parker's class?" the shorter girl challenged, rounding on him with a look that began to make him panic and back away slightly until his bag hit one of the lockers lining the hallway. She was _definitely_ intimidating. His heart was racing, at the knowledge that she’d noticed him watching her.

"Umm... He was probably just curious," Scott gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing hard and his voice coming out _much_ higher in pitch than he would've liked. He didn't miss her forest green eyes flicker downwards for a moment, before they were back on his again.

"And the girl who was trying to pick a fight?" Miss Van Dyne continued, leaning in towards him more and driving him even further into the lockers.

"Beckah? _Yeah,_ you probably want to steer clear of her if you can, she's a bit of an idiot..." Scott laughed, recalling the look on her face when the girl standing before him hadn't bowed at her taunt. His face fell when he saw that his companion didn't share his mirth.

 _"And you?"_ she pressed forward again. Scott had nowhere to move to this time, he was trapped between her and the locker pressing his backpack through his checked shirt and into his skin.

 _"Me?"_ He fumbled, unable to find any words which would have let him recover some ground.

"Are _you_ an _idiot?_ " Her eyes really were bright green - he noticed, as she craned her neck up to look at him - and framed by thick, dark lashes. He hadn't noticed their height difference until that moment, but he stood a good number of inches taller than her.

"Do _you_ think I am?" he asked, a line appearing between his brows, as they knitted into a loose frown. She glanced away from him, suddenly bashful and her confidence of a moment before having dissipated. Scott felt the air re-enter his lungs as his anxious heart rate began to calm down. She'd really had him on the ropes for a minute.

" _Undecided._ You're not exactly _trying_ with English, _are you?_ " she smirked up at him, her self-assurance having returned full force.

"Well, _that's because - look,_ I told you already - besides, I prefer Physics and Maths," he muttered in response, fidgeting with his bag strap in agitation, as unconvinced by his own answer as she clearly was. It wasn’t like him to not have an answer for everything. It was like she took the words out of his head as soon as they formed.

" _Really?_ This from the boy who can't even make it through an English lesson?" the young woman announced smugly, folding her arms across her chest and canting her hip out to one side cockily, her ponytail swinging lightly with the movement. Something about her attitude was intriguing, it was as if she _wanted_ him to react and was waiting to see what it would be. Like he was being _assessed._

 _"Hey!_ I resent that - I'll have you know I'm averaging a B+!" Scott cried, a feigned whine in his voice, pretending that she had hit her intended mark. He splayed his hand across his chest for added effect – to highlight just how much she had _wounded_ him.

 _"Wow!_ That's amazing!" She guffawed loudly at him, beginning to take a few slow steps backwards away from the lockers. Scott didn’t miss the mischievous look which entered her eyes and had decided he liked it, almost instantly. _This_ version of her, he could get maybe get along with.

"You think so?" He asked her, trying to make his voice sound as hopeful as possible. He didn’t want to admit to himself that there was something intriguing about her. After the last few minutes, suddenly Physics didn’t seem as important.

" _No._ I was valedictorian of my year at my last school." Miss Van Dyne announced, presenting herself with a graceful bow. One of her dark eyebrows was raised at the look which he realised must have been on his face then. With the serious _attitude_ she had been exuding since her arrival, he wouldn’t have guessed _that_ was what she had been at her last school. He’d figured she’d been trouble at the least...

 _So, she’s smart_ , he observed dryly, _am I supposed to be impressed?_

"Vale- _what?_ " Scott asked sarcastically, feigning ignorance. He wasn’t as stupid as she obviously thought he was. He tried not to snigger when she took the bait.

"It means I was top, grades-wise. Read a book!" she explained, rolling her eyes at him. She hadn’t realised that Scott was now baiting her to keep her talking. Their back and forth had – very slowly – become more banter-ful and that was something which came much more easily to Scott than trying to keep a one-sided conversation going.

 _Gotcha,_ he noted inwardly. Struggling now to keep a lopsided grin from spreading on his features.

"Hey, I can read - I just don't class ‘the dictionary’ as a book!" he retorted, complete with snarky air quotes, prompting annoyance to flash across her features. He could already see her mind at work, trying to come up with a rebuttal. She wasn’t as sneaky as she thought she was.

"God, is your entire school _this_ dense?" she muttered, moving to start walking to class again. She rocked backwards and forwards on her heels as she waited for him to return fire. Scott wasn’t about to give up that easily - not when she was starting to get more interesting. Her guard from earlier had seemed to drop, slowly, so he used the reprieve to counter her remark.

“Nope, just me – and you’re stuck with me until I decide to take you to class,” he grinned down at her, unable to hide the cheerful good humour in his eyes, as he walked up parallel. “I’m Scott, by the way. Not that you’ll care...”

“Could you decide faster, _Scott?_ I’m pretty sure we’ll have missed the start of class now,” she smiled conceitedly back at him, her green eyes glinting with devilry.

 _Maybe she is trouble..._ He pondered, sending her a sideways glance as they crossed the Chemistry department. She was pretty – anybody could see that – and she had _told_ him she was smart. She liked Physics too, or at least, enough to have taken it as a subject. Which to be fair, not a lot of the girls in his year had done.

“I’m blaming _you_ when we arrive anyway, _new girl,”_ he finally spoke, this time his voice taking on a deeper timbre as he swivelled his head to give her a look he thought came off as cool. She seemed to be content now with their snarky back and forth and they had settled into a rhythm with each other.

 _“New girl?”_ she cried, eyes like slits as she took a frim grip on his upper arm, stopping them both dead, “I _have_ a _name_ , you know!”

 _Uh oh,_ thought Scott, when he turned to see the expression she was giving him. His mind pored over itself for anything witty to say, to try to get back to their more playful jabs at each other.

 _“Well,_ I introduced myself already – already asked you yours – so it seems like you _don’t_ have one,” he nervously jested. He noticed then that she seemed to be weighing up something, as her eyes scanned from side to side looking at nothing, like she was trying to decide if it was worth it. She also seemed to be taking on a pink tinge to her cheeks.

 _Is she embarrassed?_ He found himself asking no one in particular, as his formerly mirthful face fell into a slight frown again. He hadn’t meant to make her feel uncomfortable.

“ _Fine..._ I’m Hope Van Dyne,” she announced, her forest-green eyes flicking up to meet his, her blush worsening. Her fingers worried at the strap to her satchel.

 _Is it me – is she shy?_ Scott puzzled, pulling his mouth to the side slightly as he tried to figure out a way to show her he was _harmless_.

“Well, nice to meet you, Hope,” he smiled down at her, flashing her a broad and affable grin, in an effort to reassure her. He wanted to hold out his hand, in greeting, but decided against it as he saw her still eyeing her carefully. He nearly jumped out of his own body when the door to the classroom they were standing outside of, swung open. Inside the doorway stood Mr Foster, their Physics teacher – chalk in one hand and their textbook in the other.

“ _Mr Lang!_ ” he cried, loudly enough to elicit a few sniggers from the other students, “so good of you to _finally_ join us!”

“It’s _Hope’s_ fault really, sir. She’s new here and Mr Parker asked me to show her around and she would _not_ stop talking... ” Scott laughed, flashing a look across to a restrained Hope. She looked like she wanted to go off on him, but was holding herself back in front of their teacher, although her white knuckles tipped her hand.

“I’m sorry, sir, Scott’s _right,_ ” she smiled sweetly, trying to win over the older man with her ‘honesty’. She fired Scott an annoyed glance, before her mask returned, “I was just so excited about starting at school and Physics is my _favourite_ subject...” she continued, laying it on thick.

 _Man, she’s good,_ Scott observed, watching as Mr Parker’s expression changed from one of chiding, to one of interest.

“Well, then, come in,” he smiled at her, before raising an eyebrow at Scott and tapping at his watchface in a way that let him know he wasn’t entirely off the hook.

“I mean, _really,_ Hope,” Scott muttered in mock-disappointment, shaking his head at her as he headed into the classroom, leaving her to scowl unamused at the back of his head for a minute. She followed him in a few seconds later, throwing a quick glance around the room to try to find an empty seat before Mr Foster _assigned_ her one.

“There’s a vacant seat next to Mr Lang, seeing as you two already _know_ each other,” stated the older African-American man as he glanced up from his class notes before resuming their lesson.

Scott shot her a self-satisfied look as he leaned back casually in his chair, watching her roll her eyes in return when she took the seat next to him.

“Am I still an idiot then?” he asked her, leaning in so he didn’t draw the attention of Mr Foster or have to take his eyes off of the resistance equations which he was writing diligently, despite his split focus.

 _“Undecided,”_ she replied, sending him a wicked look. He missed her eyes flickering down to his furious note taking and the way her eyebrows raised in surprise when she saw how detailed they were.


	2. Ithinkyoubrokemysternum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shenanigans after Physics.
> 
> Scott and Hope meet the Ant Crew.
> 
> Scott *maybe* comes to a realisation in Biology.

It had turned out that they had sat in relative quiet for the remainder of Mr Foster’s lesson - but not an uncomfortable one. Once it had finished, Scott was getting ready to pack his things back into his bag, when she finally spoke.

“So, you don’t hate _every_ subject then?” Hope asked, regarding him with a degree of suspicion - as if she were still evaluating him. She gently bit down on the eraser at the end of her pencil with the side of her mouth, while she watched the lean young man with dark messy hair. She didn’t spot the way his moss green eyes slid down to it and back, before he responded.

“I don’t hate _any_ subject,” he protested, starting to put his notepad and textbook away, suddenly irked by _something_. He paused, his arm inside his bag up to the rolled-up sleeve of his checked shirt, before throwing a glance over to her, “-I just had pretty much _done_ my assignment for Mr Parker’s class and like I said earlier, I'd already _read_ that chapter. _Again_ , not that you care…”

Hope frowned a little at that. She _didn’t_ care. She also didn’t _not_ care. Thus far - other than their teachers - Scott Lang was the only student who had shown any _amiable_ interest in who _she_ was. The rest had been too snide or indifferent. Seeing him close his backpack up, she decided she too had better get ready to go to their next class, so began to mirror his actions. She quickly cast her eye over her timetable, before closing her satchel and saw that she had a free period next. She wasn’t keen on the idea of having to sit on her own for an hour – not when she could be learning.

“ _Listen,_ ” he said, causing her to snap her alpine tinged eyes up to his own, “-it was nice meeting you. Luis said he’d get me after he was done with shop, so I’ll see you around maybe?” Scott gave her a bashful smile as he made his excuses to leave, before slinging his backpack on with a single strap over his right shoulder and moved towards the door, to file out with the other students. He wasn’t sure if he was being rude, but he figured he’d been pleasant enough during the time that they _had_ spent together and that she surely wouldn’t _want_ to be stuck with the guy that one of their teachers had picked at random, for the rest of the day.

She sat in silence for a few beats after he bid her farewell, before she called after him, “ _Lang!_ ”

Scott froze - as if he hadn’t expected to hear her voice - standing rigid as a post for a moment, before he slowly turned around. She took the opportunity to spring out of her seat and catch him up. When she did, he wore a confused expression on his face for a second, until it settled into the more easy-going mien, he had worn on their walk to Physics earlier.

“ _Miss Van Dyne,_ ” he replied in acknowledgement, a handsome smirk skirting his features, as he tilted his bay leaf green eyes down to hers. She wore a decent poker face, but he had spotted the tell-tale beginnings of a blush on her cheeks almost as soon as he had addressed her. It amused him _greatly_ that she didn’t seem to appreciate him mirroring her remark, so he decided to press home with more playful teasing of another of her earlier pronouncements, “I _have_ a _name_ you know...”

Settling herself after a moment, she decided to shift his attention from her _unconscious_ reaction, back onto himself. “ _Scott,_ ” she began, drawing his name out for more than was necessary, “I have a free period next... and I don’t know what to _do_ with it…” she announced, her tone girlish as she handed him her timetable, although her eyes held a look that was _not_ _innocent_. She had to suppress the laugh that would have escaped her lips, or she wouldn’t be able to enjoy how much it made him visibly _squirm._ _Boys at this age are idiots…_ she observed, with internal hilarity. Hope watched him as his eyes scanned across it, after a panicked glance back at her and then after a few seconds saw him release an audible snort, when he must have recognised something on it.

“What’s so funny?” she pushed, her eyebrows arched in suspicion now and her arms folded across her chest until she adjusted the hairband securing her ponytail. Another, deeper part of her was desperate to know what had entertained him _so_.

Realising he was no longer on the back foot, he flashed her a sly smile, which provoked an unamused frown from her in return. “ _Nothing_... Just looks like you really _are_ stuck with me!” Scott laughed, moving to hand her back her timetable.

“What do you mean?” Hope asked, a slight hint of concern in her voice, as she rushed to snatch it from him and see for herself.

“Whoa, _not so fast,_ new girl,” he chuckled, whipping it up and out of her reach, as he began to backstep towards the door. He didn’t really understand _why_ he was acting so childish, but something about how quickly Hope reacted to it, made him _want_ _to_ even _more_.

“Give it back, Scott,” she asked in the more clipped and formal tone she had used on him when they had first met, “- _I’ll only ask once..._ ” He noted that her body language had shifted completely. At first glance she might look like she was relaxed, but he could see she was in a ready stance.

 _But ready for what?_ he thought silently and began to feel uneasy now about what he was doing. His mind dove for any way to salvage the situation, so he flipped the folded paper in his hand back down towards her and offered her what she wanted. She jerked forwards to grab it again – her fingers almost on it, but before he could stop himself, his quick reflexes had kicked in and he had flipped it around his knuckles and dropped it into his other hand, pulling it behind his back.

“ _Scott..._ ” she growled quietly, her rainforest green eyes narrowed and flashing with irritation. She started to pace towards him through the rows of desks, as he continued to backtrack away from her, “Give. It. Back.”

Scott felt the strange duality of being terrified at how hard her eyes had turned and thrilled by the rush of adrenaline which flooded his veins as he darted her timetable away from her again with a cobra-fast movement. She was growing increasingly frustrated, so she stood on one of his feet – not enough to hurt him, but with enough weight behind it to stop him moving away from her.

“ _Hey!_ ” he grumbled down at her, looking deflated that she had gained the upper hand once again, “That’s not fair…”

“ _There are no rules,_ ” she announced victoriously, as she moved both feet onto the one she held captive and stood on her tip toes to retrieve her timetable from where he tried in vain to keep it out of her reach, “ _Thank-you._ ” She flashed him a fiendish smile as she reached for it.

Scott’s heart rate sky-rocketed, her slender torso was _inches_ from his and as she stretched to try and reach the errant piece of paper, he had to _will_ every part of himself not to look below eye-level – where her long jacket had splayed open, giving him a _full_ view inside. He’d dated a few girls over the course of high school and had even had Maggie as his girlfriend for a year or so, but something about how close Hope was now made his thoughts feel incoherent and he faltered. He felt his fingers starting to release the paper into her hands, preparing himself for defeat. Then, a goofy, stray idea crept into his mind and he began to flourish his free hand in front of the paper.

“ _What are you-?_ ” Hope started to ask, confoundment written across her features, as her eyes moved from his hands and back to him.

 _Gotcha,_ Scott noted, beginning to feel a swell of pride that she _hadn’t_ managed to beat him yet. By the time her eyes had flickered back across to where he had been holding the paper, he had succeeded.

She did a bit of a double-take, not quite believing what she was seeing. _I only had my eyes off it for, like, a second…_ Hope thought confusedly, as she tried to figure out just _how_ he could have gotten it out of her hands without her noticing or feeling it.

The sound of a throat being cleared, caused them both to fly apart, startled. “If you’re both finished whatever _this_ was, class is over,” came the entertained voice of Mr Foster, as he indicated with his hands between them. The two mumbled their apologies, looking fixedly at the ground and not at each other. “Go on then, get out of here,” he laughed good-naturedly, letting them both breathe in, in relief.

Hope strode ahead of Scott, her nose lifted higher, as if she had proved _he_ had been the one that was being embarrassing. She fired him a triumphant look over her shoulder that swung her hair dramatically before leaving the room, to which he gave a defeated head shake in response.

“-And Scott,” came Mr Foster’s voice again, making the student stop before he was also about to exit the classroom, bracing himself at the doorway with one arm and half-turning to listen. “If you spent _less_ time _goofing off_ and more time _actually_ applying yourself, you could be looking at an A+ instead of a B,” the salt and pepper-haired older man smiled, regarding him over the brim of his glasses.

“ _Sorry,_ sir,” Scott offered, a small half smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He knew that Mr Foster was of course right, but he was _young._ And full of the humour that left most adults the older they got. He didn’t know that there was a part of his teacher that missed that feeling - of being full of youth and unafraid of tomorrow.

“Let’s try and cut down those tardies, at least,” his teacher announced, adjusting his glasses and beginning to look over his notes before his next class, settling for attempting some small improvements if he couldn’t quite _get through_ to Scott, “I’d hate to have to give you detention _again_ this month...”

“Okay, _deal,_ ” chuckled Scott, before he waved goodbye and wandered off to his free period.

He was brought to an abrupt halt just after he had gotten clear of the doorway, by a sharp strike to his chest, knocking the air straight out of his lungs. He started gasping, trying to get his breath back, when he saw the dark jeans and combat boots and realised who it was that had hit him.

“ _Ithinkyoubrokemysternum…_ ” he wheezed, still feeling like he couldn’t breathe.

“ _Relax,_ Scott,” Hope laughed, rolling her eyes theatrically at him, “-you’d _know_ if I broke your sternum, that is, if you even _know_ what one is...”

“I do,” he groaned, well enough again to stand, as he finally started to gulp down air, “that’s why I said it.” She fired a look at him that screamed _‘get real’_ and made him stare her down in response.

“You’ve had your fun, now, _Lang,_ ” she scowled, placing extra emphasis on his surname, before she stepped right up to him - tilting her face up to meet his, “ _what_ did you do with my timetable?”

Scott’s weathered-copper eyes sparkled with mischief as she continued to glower at him. He glanced down slowly and deliberately at her jacket pocket and she followed his eyes down, gently reaching inside it and feeling a folded paper inside. She pulled it out and unfurled it, seeing that it _was_ what she had sought.

“But _how_ did you-?” She began to ask, perplexment knitting her brows together. She glanced up to find Scott grinning at her, obviously trying to restrain the laughter that threatened to escape him.

“A magician _never_ reveals his secret,” he sniggered, giving her a sarcastic pair of jazz hands for good measure. Hope fired a look at him which seemed to ask _‘Really?’_. He shrugged back at her, before giving a comical bow. When he stood again, she was looking at him with her head tilted - as if he was the strangest things she had ever seen.

“Sorry, if I hurt you…” she muttered, suddenly looking away guiltily, like she finally realised she _could_ have, and that it wasn’t just him being overdramatic. She started to fidget with the end of her sleeve, pulling it over the ends of her fingers and stretching the fabric.

“You’re tough,” Scott admitted with a laugh, “but you’re not _that_ tough.” She saw right through his masculine bravado though and was relieved that he had taken her winding of him with such good humour. He shuffled slightly from foot to foot when they then began to stand in an awkward silence.

“I should go, I don’t want to keep you,” Hope began to say, excusing herself. She gripped onto the strap of her satchel tightly with both hands and began to turn away when she felt a hand fall gently on her shoulder.

“ _You know…_ ” Scott Began, a kind air to his voice – which seemed to have taken on a playful, but deeper tone, “We’re in the same Biology class. You didn’t think you were getting rid of me _that_ easily, _did you?_ ”

Hope felt herself begin to turn back around, without even realising it, until she could see that the way he was looking at her matched the emotion evident in voice. He was a complete oddball, she had observed, but he _wasn’t_ unkind. _Maybe this Scott Lang isn’t so bad after all?_ she thought to herself as he watched her, trying to gauge her reaction to his joke, _Infuriating? Yes, he could be. Funny? He certainly seemed to think he was. Awful? She wasn’t sure if he had a nasty bone in his body, but then again, they had only met that morning..._

“You know, I thought I _might_ have been that lucky,” she replied sarcastically, making him chuckle and drop his head down.

“Alright, well, I’m going to go see where Luis got to,” Scott announced, missing the slight look of disappointment which flashed across her features, as he started to move off. Then, when he didn’t hear her walking next to him, he turned to see her still worrying the end of her sleeve in the middle of the empty corridor, “ _Are you coming?_ ” he asked, mock-irritation in his voice, as if she were making him late.

She gave a somewhat nervous smile back to him and then jogged to catch up. He led her back out of the Science department, this time helpfully pointing out the basic demarcation of each department that they walked through. It took them about ten minutes to cross from where the Physics labs had been, over the campus to where the workshops for the Industrial Arts classes were. Scott had explained he had a hunch that Luis was still there and had more than likely lost _all_ track of time. He pushed the double doors to the workshop where his best friend normally could be found open and held it there for Hope, gesturing for her to go first.

As she walked inside, she could see that all along the workshop were jacks and ramps with numerous different vehicles in various states of repair. She could smell the engine grease and petroleum – it was a strong smell, but not an entirely unpleasant one. Scott wandered along, passing until he was just ahead of her, glancing round reassuringly when she began to feel the sound of the boys working around her quieten and the many pairs of eyes following her.

“There they are,” Scott exclaimed, reaching a hand back to offer it to her friendlily, as he nodded behind himself. Hope looked down at it as if it were alien, but upon hearing the hushed murmurs and whispers picking up around her, squared her shoulders and took it. When she felt it close around hers, she realised that it was bigger than her own and much less soft – calloused and rough – but _warm_.

As they drew closer, she could see a tall, skinny, dark-haired boy with a _ridiculous_ haircut sitting on the bonnet of an old brown van - deep in concentration on a laptop, while another boy with a dark snap-back cap worked on the tyres. A third pair of legs stuck out from underneath the vehicle, working on something below.

“Hey, Kurt – _is Luis about?_ ” asked Scott, as they arrived. The pale, slightly sickly-looking young man looked up from his screen and smiled broadly.

“ _Scott_ – the main man!” beamed Kurt, as he got up to greet his friend, pausing to announce their arrival to the other two young men, in his noticeable accent. “Luis! Dave! _Is Scott!_ ” The two men finished what they were doing and joined them shortly after.

“ _Scotty!_ ” yelled the Latino boy that she had seen with him in Mr Parker’s class. He grinned broadly; mouth open slightly as he registered who was standing next to his friend. His dark brown eyes flicked back and forth between the two of them, like he was processing things.

“ _Hey, man_ – who’s your friend?” offered the third young man, who Hope had deduced must be ‘Dave’. Of the three new faces, he seemed to be the most relaxed - falling roughly in the middle between Kurt’s more reserved - but _not_ unfriendly - demeanour towards her and the almost _manic_ smile that Luis was giving her, as he kept looking between her and Scott.

“Hope, _this_ is Luis, Dave and Kurt,” Scott said, introducing them all, “Luis, Dave and Kurt, _this_ is Hope.”

“Damn Scotty, you worked _fast!_ ” Luis noted, sounding impressed, giving his friend a nod of approval. He held out his hand for a hi-five, whilst Dave gave them both a look that seemed to be one of confusion until he twigged what _exactly_ it was that Luis was getting at.

“ _Oh no,_ Luis, _Hope’s not-”_ Scott began to explain, flashing Hope a frantic look, when he realised what his friends thought and what _she_ would probably be thinking, “ _We’re_ not-” His heart started to pound in his ears, the air seeming to feel thinner somehow.

“Are you Scott’s new lady-friend?” asked Kurt abruptly in his thick, Russian accent, obviously not the kind to sit and _wonder_ about something. Hope raised an eyebrow at him dryly and then turned to Scott, who looked flabbergasted at his friends, the tell-tale flush of red beginning to creep up the back of his neck – no-longer concealed by the collar of his shirt.

The sound of Luis’ loud hilarity followed soon by accompanying sniggers from Kurt and Dave let Scott _finally_ breathe normally again, “ _Oh man,_ you should see how _red_ you’re going right now,” he howled, pointing at his blushing friend. Luis struggled to breathe with how hard he was laughing - almost giggling in hysterics.

“Do you _want_ Hope to be lady-friend, Scott?” asked Kurt and with how neutral his face now was, even she had trouble with telling whether he was joking or not. Dave was nearly crying with laughter, using the taller, skinny boy as support between his fits.

Eventually able to regain his courage, Scott gave Hope an apologetic small smile before turning to the three stooges in front of him, “Would you guys _cut_ it out?” His voice came out much whinier than he had intended it to, making him huff out a groan and his three friends redouble their laughter, which echoed loudly throughout the workshop, beginning to attract the attention of the _other_ students.

“Alright, _alright_ , guys – I think Scott would _like_ us to _stop,_ ” Luis tittered, then growing silent when Scott fired him, Dave and Kurt a warning look.

“Are you _done?_ ” Scott asked, an edge to his voice as the blush _very slightly_ began to recede, “Hope just started today and we’ve been in the same classes this morning - we will be for the rest of the day.”

Hope tilted her head to the side in surprise, her eyebrows lifting slightly when she heard him say it. So that’s what he’d found _so_ amusing: the two of them were in the same classes. _Does that mean for everything?_ She wondered quietly, not sure whether to be _happy_ about the news or not.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you,” smiled Luis, finally having settled down to just intermittent sniggering, offering his hand. When Hope looked at it with an expression of concern, he looked down and realised it was still covered in grease from the van. Wiping it with the rag tucked into his back-jean pocket, he offered it again and was pleasantly surprised when she tentatively shook it.

“ _’Sup,_ ” offered Dave, holding out his own, once she had finished greeting Luis. Finishing with it a moment later, she paused for a moment, before Kurt nodded politely instead, “Yes – _is pleasure,_ ” he added with a shy smile.

Deciding that things had moved on enough for him to try and finesse his way onto another subject, Scott decided to ask about the gang’s current project: renovating Luis’s parents old van. “So, how’s ‘the project’ going?” he asked, beginning to saunter over to where they had been working.

“What _is_ that?” asked Hope, cutting clean through the boys’ chatter and admiration of their handiwork.

“ _This?_ ” asked Luis cheerfully, “Is… _hecha con_ _cariño_ _,_ ” he responded, rubbing the beaten-up bonnet with affection. “She might be a little old _burro_ just now, but she’s trustier and more reliable than _any_ _mustang._ ”

“Yo, show them the _thing,_ ” gestured Dave, waving Luis off - who dutifully opened the driver’s-side door and jumped in. The car horn blared _La Cucaracha_ a moment later, as Luis craned his head out of the wound down window, to yell, “ _Pretty sweet,_ right?”

Scott nodded enthusiastically, while Hope shook her head in disbelief, fixing Scott with an incredulous look – who smiled with a shrug in response, before Dave corrected his friend, “No man, the _other_ thing…”

“Oh! _Right-right-right!_ ” laughed Luis, turning the key until the engine roared into life. Luis and Scott grinned at each other, as he turned the engine back off and climbed back out. Luis looked like a proud father – all puffed up chest and watery eyes.

“You got her going?” asked Scott excitedly, gripping his friend’s shoulder and shaking it - as if he couldn’t quite believe that they had pulled it off. Hope found herself admiring how easily Scott seemed to get along with other people and the genuine joy he had for his friend, as she watched the two of them. It wasn’t something _she_ had been used to.

“ _Yeah man,_ we managed to scrounge up some parts, got her cleaned up and running like new,” Luis answered, almost giddy with how happy he was.

“ _That’s great!_ How long have you got to go ‘til she’s ready?” Scott enquired, as they began to walk around the van together, examining it more closely. He ran his fingers over the panels they had already beaten out, impressed with how smooth they felt and flashed a bright smile up to his friend, to show him.

“Oh, _well,_ we could run her now, but I think I want to get her looking _real_ nice,” winked Luis, causing them both to collapse into laughter. Hope, meanwhile, stood at the front of the van, with Dave and Kurt - who without Scott there, were _polite_ but quiet – like they didn’t know how to act around a girl. She found herself missing his jovial company, almost immediately.

“Can I see?” asked Scott, gesturing towards the front of the car, as he stood and finished his walk-over with his best friend. He spotted Hope looking – well, _lost_ \- next to his two friends who were even less well-versed with the opposite sex. He paused for a moment, realising how _innocent_ she looked when her defences weren’t up. She was attractive – he’d have been lying if he’d said she wasn’t – but she was also a paradox, _extremely_ confident in some ways and yet almost _inexperienced_ in others.

“ _You wanna have a closer look?_ ” Scott asked as he came to stand next to her, not wanting her to feel left out and curious to see if any of her interest in Physics also carried over into Mechanics and Engineering. He was pleased that she didn’t look _too_ tense after being left on her own with them.

“ _Sure,_ ” she said softly, her almond shaped eyes crinkling slightly with her small smile as he led her over.

Back together in a bigger group, the five of them chatted amongst themselves for the rest of their free period, pouring over the new engine in the car. Hope pitched in occasionally with suggestions on further improvements, which were welcomed with open arms by Scott’s friends, who looked to her now as if she were an angel – something that filled Scott’s chest with warmth. Luis also gave them a _long_ and _elaborate_ history of where each of the parts had come from. Hope noted that some of the sources sounded just a _tad_ sketchy and didn’t miss Scott sharing the same thought, when their eyes met.

Eventually, the bell rang to announce the next period was due to start and the group parted. Luis, Dave and Kurt would be in another Industrial Arts class, while Hope and Scott headed off to Biology.

“ _See?_ We’re not _all_ bad…” stated Scott, hoping that the young woman had begun to settle in, his eyes searching hers for any sign that she hadn’t liked his friends. He knew they were good guys, but that they could be a bit, well… _odd._

“No, not bad… but they were _interesting,_ ” she smirked up at him playfully, as she adjusted her bag strap.

“ _Interesting,_ ” he chuckled softly, as they walked into the Biology department, “I’d agree with that. How _very_ diplomatic.” Scott waved to a few of his classmates as he walked in - a young woman with golden hair waving back cheerily – whom Hope noted he threw back a small half-smile to. “I’m up here,” Scott announced, motioning towards a set of lab benches to the rear right hand side of the class, completely missing the way her eyes fell slightly as the words left him, “-you can join me… _if you want?_ ” he asked, trying not to force her to be around him, unless she _wanted_ to.

He felt himself smile when she gave a short, sharp nod, like she was ready for anything. _More_ hushed whispers – like the ones in Industrial Arts - seemed to follow the two of them and as Hope sat down next to him at their lab bench, she could feel the others watching them. When she looked up, she saw the golden-haired girl eyeing them strangely, before she quickly turned back round, caught in the act. Something _bothered_ her about it. _Does this girl have some sort of relationship to Scott?_ She found herself asking silently. A deep, voice – but one that wasn’t Scott’s – snapped her out of her thoughts and she looked up to find the face of a young man she didn’t recognise.

“I _don’t_ think we’ve been introduced?” the young man in front of her asked, as he watched her intently. He was tall and broad shouldered, well-dressed and with an angular jaw and close-cropped hair. His green eyes seemed kind, but there was an edge to his body language – one she couldn’t _quite_ put her finger on.

“ _I-_ ” Hope began to answer, as she took her things out of her satchel, looking over to Scott for a steer in the right direction. She was worried that perhaps this was someone from one of their earlier classes and that she was being rude. Scott looked up from his own backpack, to her and then when he saw her uncertain expression, his eyes whipped round to where the other boy stood.

“ _Scott,_ ” acknowledged the new face, pleasantly, although Scott could have laughed out loud at how _fake_ it was - because the smile he had plastered on didn’t reach his eyes. Scott gave a small, purse-lipped smile in greeting and held himself back to see where _this_ went. He was hoping that he and Hope might have become friends – or at the very least friendly _acquaintances_ \- and he _wasn’t_ the kind of person who would tell someone who they could and couldn’t hang out with. _Unlike Beckah._

“ _I’m Darren Cross,_ ” announced the other young man with the stylish dress-sense, introducing himself, as he took a seat at the bench in front of theirs, “I hope we’ll get to know each other a bit better, _Miss?..._ ” His voice trailed off and he looked expectantly at Hope, as he waited for her to respond. He gave her an encouraging smile, as if hoping she would cotton on to what it was that he was looking for.

When she did, she laughed embarrassedly at how foolish she had been for leaving Darren hanging without giving her name in return and sounded like any other high school girl when she did. “ _Oh_ – I’m Hope Van Dyne,” she smiled brightly back at him, almost the same way she had with Scott earlier – something that hadn’t escape _his_ gaze.

 _Oh, come on…_ Scott heard himself complaining inside his thoughts, crestfallen and in total disbelief, _Seriously?_ He denied that it was jealousy - after all, he barely knew Hope, but that didn’t mean he had to _like_ it. Darren Cross was _bad news_ – devious brains and devilish looks, all wrapped up into a perfect wolf-in-sheep’s clothing package. Sure, he would seem innocuous enough at first glance, but Scott knew better. Darren was the kind of guy who would stab you in the back but would _smile_ whilst doing it and had an ego large enough that _demanded_ that you knew it was _him_ that had done it.

“Well, if you ever need a lab partner – _I’ll be right here,_ ” Darren offered to Hope with a cheeky wink, who felt quite surprised and if she dared to admit it – _flattered_ by the attention - missing the look that Scott and Darren exchanged as he turned back around.

 _Are you serious?_ Scott wondered, _Cutting in on lab partners as if I’m not even here, Cross?_

“He seemed nice?” Hope asked quietly, as her eyes searched Scott’s for any sort of sign otherwise – beginning to feel like she might be able to trust him. Meanwhile, Mr McCoy had started to hand out their experiment outlines, starting at the front and working back. 

 _Is he mad at me?_ She puzzled, her hopeful expression diminishing when he didn’t reply. He was almost _carving_ the letters into his notepad as he titled his page, still not registering that she had said anything. So, she prodded him gently in the arm with her pencil, until she got his attention.

“ _Hmm?_ Yeah, I guess so,” was all Scott said on the matter, shaking his head nonchalantly, his voice coming out sharp-edged and prickly. Then, when he spotted the flicker of what he thought was _upset_ in her eyes, he tempered it with gentleness, “You know, I don’t _really_ know him…”

It wasn’t _entirely_ true, Scott knew, but he didn’t want to _force_ his opinions on Hope. She seemed smart and if she was as smart as he _thought_ she might be and as sharp as he had _seen_ her be, she’d figure out Darren Cross all on her own. All he could do was be there for when she did. If she even _wanted_ him to. He sneaked a sidelong glance at her then, seeing that she was titling her own page and spotted that Darren was looking at her over his shoulder and the shy smile she returned to him, when she noticed.

 _Oh man…_ he thought, as he finally felt the heaviness which had settled in his chest at the sight. Or how badly he wanted to be able to shove it aside... 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot state how BLOWN away I've been by the response to this story. Thank you everyone who has read and to all of you who have bookmarked, subbed, kudos'ed and commented - you know who you are. 
> 
> What can I say? I'm a sucker for drama and I feel Darren could bring that XD
> 
> Please let me know if you enjoyed this chapter, I'm still split about keeping this going or leaving it short form.


	3. Anthropo-what?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Biology shenanigans. 
> 
> Maggie and Luis' begin their investigations...
> 
> Scott deals - or doesn't deal - with how he's feeling

Around a month or so later, Hope and Scott had set to work observing the animal behaviour videos that Dr McCoy had tasked them with assessing _this_ lesson, to try to identify the categories they fell into and whether they fell into patterns. Unsurprisingly, Scott had _not_ _excelled_ at it. Hope however, seemed to take to it as easily as breathing air.

“ _No,_ Scott,” she corrected him again, closing her viridian eyes in frustration as she drew in a calming breath, “-you’re _still_ anthropomorphising…”                                                                                                           

“I’m sorry, _anthropo-what?_ ” He asked, a small frown marring his features as he tilted his head towards her. He lazily scrubbed a hand through the light curls in the hair at his vaguely-quiffed fringe, trying not to think again about _Darren_ and how Hope had looked at _him_.

“I’m beginning to think maybe you _should_ read a dictionary…” she jabbed, sending him an evil looking glance out of the corner of her eye whilst she paused in her notetaking.

“ _Okay…_ ” he snorted, raising an eyebrow at her playfully, “I’m going to let you have that one for free, but have you maybe considered that I’m _choosing_ to anthropomorphise the subjects?”

Hope returned him a totally unimpressed expression, which only served to egg him on further. Getting a rise out of her – any reaction that _wasn’t_ silence, really – amused him to no end. Whilst she hadn’t yet twigged that responding only made him worse, he had already realised she could give as good as she got. Despite how serious she seemed; she had a surprisingly sharp sense of humour – not that he didn’t appreciate it.

“Have _you_ ever considered that maybe _you’re_ one of the subjects?” Hope smirked back, turning to begin furiously scribbling notes, as her eyes flickered between her notebook and him. Scott couldn’t help the half-smile it elicited. _She’s such a goof when she wants to be,_ he thought to himself, silently as he took her in.

“ _Ms Van Dyne,_ ” Dr McCoy announced suddenly, his amber eyes seeming to grow brighter in shade as he removed his glasses – prompting them both to sit up ram-rod straight, “– whilst I appreciate your _enthusiasm_ , your lab partner is _not_ currently the focus of this experiment…”

“ _Busted…_ ” Scott mouthed at her exaggeratedly, earning an infuriated scowl from Hope in response – the tell-tale crimson of her blush beginning to tinge the skin of her face – whilst he tried valiantly to suppress the laughter which threatened to escape him. He was saved the need when the bell signalling the end of the school day came. Just as he was about to extend the offer to join him, Luis and the others in hanging out after school, Darren spun round in his chair.

“You _have_ to let me see what you wrote…” he pleaded with Hope, his eyes briefly danced over to Scott, looking him up and down a moment _too_ long before returning to her again. Scott had to restrain the urge to roll his eyes back into his head. He wouldn’t - but it didn’t mean he didn’t _want_ to. Darren hadn’t been able to convince Hope to switch to be _his_ lab partner yet, but it didn’t make Scott feel any less comfortable when he hovered around her. The truth was, Darren _always_ wanted something - Scott just hadn’t figured out what it was yet.

“Maybe next class…” Hope smiled softly, after sparing Scott a moment’s glance. He had already schooled his face into a mask of his attention being elsewhere – he didn’t want her to know he was watching her, gauging her response to Darren, turning the words over and over in his mind. Darren, meanwhile, offered for her to join him for a soda after school. However, she politely blew him off - prompting him to remind her that she ‘knew where to find him if she wanted some _real_ conversation’. Scott couldn’t help the flare of irritation which ignited within him at the sound of the remark, as Darren touched her wrist gently and bid her farewell.

“You, _uh,_ heading home now?” Scott asked her, as his eyes followed the tall form of Darren Cross, until it had left the room. His question was genuine in nature. Whilst he and Hope were on largely the same timetable and had picked most of the same subjects – meaning they shared most of their classes – he’d found out the end of their first day together that she _never_ stuck around or socialised after school. She was picked up by her father at the same time _every_ day.

Scott had never actually spoken to the man, but from what little he had been able to glean – from the way Hope seemed to stiffen in his presence, or the fact that their interactions were limited to the _briefest_ exchanges of information - he wasn’t sure he _wanted_ to. _Does she even have a mom?_ He wondered quietly, while he awaited her response. He noted then that even with the little information he had managed to get out of her, that she had said _very little_ about herself outside of the academic environment. In fact, the only reason he knew she _had_ a father, was because he had seen him with his own eyes: a tall, stern looking man in a stylish suit and aviator shades, with grown out hair the colour of her own and who seemed to size Scott up the way Hope had when they’d first met.

She hesitated to respond, which also didn’t escape his attention. “I think so - Dad’s taking me to class after school,” was all she said, before she began to forcefully throw her things into her bag, averting her eyes from his.

“What _kind_ of class?” he asked suddenly, hoping that he would be able to prolong their conversation, turning his torso round to face her. Hope froze for a moment – like the question disturbed her. Her head snapped up; eyes ablaze. Scott grew cautious, unable to tell whether it was in warning or not.

“Why does it matter?” she fired back, slamming her hand down on the lab workstation with a sharpness to her tone. Mr McCoy arched an eyebrow at them, turning around from his cleaning off the whiteboard at the front of the classroom, as if in question of whether he needed to intervene. Scott shook his head in the hope that he wouldn’t and began to scramble for a plausible reason to his querying, while she continued to watch him with an expression echoing that of her father.

Deciding to settle on honesty, Scott eventually found his response, “I was just wondering…” His voice had a plaintive air, causing her to reaction to soften. He couldn’t understand how his genuine curiosity of her life outside of school was met with such hostility, yet Darren’s offer to socialise was left as more of a ‘rain check’.

Hope couldn’t bear the sorrowful look he wore and after warring inwardly with herself, told him in a more measured tone, “I… go to a self-defence class – Dad doesn’t _approve…_ but then again, he doesn’t approve of much,” she announced, her voice trailing off with a shrug. She began to play with the end of her ponytail, as if examining her brunette strands individually.

Scott was surprised for a millionth of a second, before deciding that there was _nothing_ surprising about her admission at all. Hope was _unconventional_ – and not in a bad way. She was _smart_ – smarter than he was and he was not afraid to admit it – fiery, witty and kind, with a smile that he wished she shared more often. So, her readily offering such personal information, made his chest swell with happiness. Especially when every other time he asked her a personal question, had seemed to send them two steps forward, then one step back.

“That is _so_ awesome,” he beamed at her with a merry laugh, earning him a shy one from her in response. They fell into an awkward silence for longer than was comfortable when his laughter dwindled, before Scott offered to walk her out. She quietly accepted, waiting patiently while he quickly stowed his own notepad and textbook. They waved goodbye to their teacher and followed the meandering corridor back out of the Biology department – working their way back towards the entrance through the largely empty halls. Both tried their best to shove aside the awareness of the looks coming their way from the remaining students they passed.

Eventually, they reached the front door and Scott spotted the familiar Triumph Spitfire parked _right_ at the bottom of the concrete steps.

Hope offered him a small half-smile, before she ran down the stairs - her long, lightly curled ponytail swinging behind her - quickly shouting a “See you next week, _Lang!_ ” back at him. He grinned back at her, raising a hand in acknowledgement until he felt the withering gaze of Mr Pym land on him. He slowly withdrew his hand at that. He also didn’t miss the way that Hope, and her father didn’t seem to speak to each other, either.

“ _So,_ you going to tell me about her then?” came Maggie’s voice, as she appeared at the school entrance next to him. Despite their breakup, they had remained on surprisingly amicable terms with one another. She was shorter than Scott, with golden-auburn soft-curled hair, atoll-coloured eyes and a skinny figure.

Scott tried his best to contain the sigh that fought to leave him. He knew it was only a matter of time before Maggie cornered him. Even though she had moved on and was dating Paxton now, she still deemed it necessary to check in with him and he had noticed her watching him and Hope occasionally in some of the classes they all shared together.

“She’s just a _friend_ Maggie…” he began, unconvinced himself by the tone which left him. When the shorter woman nudged him squarely with a sharp elbow into his ribs, he knew she wouldn’t be satisfied with any vague answer he gave her. She grabbed his arm and gently spun him round, levelling him with a look that communicated that she hadn’t bought it. At least not fully.

“I swear,” Scott replied, holding his hands up in supplication, “-we just sit together in class sometimes.”

“So, there’s _nothing_ going on?” Maggie asked, fixing him with a serious look, her eyes narrowing in distrust and causing him to back up a bit as she stepped towards him.

Scott’s eyes grew panicked, suddenly on the back foot. He didn’t know _how_ to respond. _Nothing was going on, was it?_ he thought hurriedly as his mind flew for an answer. _Hope’s a friend, that’s all, a female friend. God, that sounds weird,_ he berated himself internally. “She’s a knowledge pursuit colleague!” he blurted out, the words tumbling out in disorderly fashion. _Way to go Scott, you nailed that one…_ he moaned silently at himself.

“So, you don’t _want_ there to be anything going on?” Maggie pressed, forcing him back again. She’d crossed her arms in a way that Scott _immediately_ recognised – she thought she was onto something and would stop at nothing to uncover it. It was probably why she and Paxton were a _far_ better match than she and Scott had been.

“ _Knowledge pursuit colleagues,_ ” Scott chuckled, gesturing to cross his heart and trying to make peace with the thrifty economy of the truth he had just shared. Maggie’s eyes narrowed further until the sound of Paxton’s voice reached them both.

“ _Maggie,_ you ready to go?” he yelled up at them, after pulling up at the sidewalk below in his convertible. He was a nice enough guy, but always a little reserved around Scott. Not that it was a bad thing - he was also very affectionate with Maggie and if he was being honest with himself, Scott knew he made her happier than he _ever_ could.

“I’ll be down in a minute!” she called back, turning briefly to flash her boyfriend a bright white smile. Then her intense gaze fell back on Scott. “You better not be _lying_ to me Scott – I _will_ find out!” she giggled, prodding him sharply in the chest with a manicured nail.

“ _Jeeze,_ Maggie!” he groaned, watching as she began to wander down to where a suspicious Paxton waited, throwing him a sceptical glance over her shoulder once before she got into the car. He waved them off cheerfully, Maggie waving enthusiastically back and Paxton raising his hand in acknowledgement as they pulled off.

Releasing a deep sigh, he sauntered down the front steps and began to walk towards the school parking lot. The distinctive notes of _La Cucaracha_ reached his ears after a few minutes and was soon after accompanied by the sound of a vehicle slowing to a crawl. He turned his head to the right and was met with the sight of Luis’ broad grin. “ _¿Que tal,_ Scotty?” he asked, bringing the van to a stop.

“Hey, Luis,” Scott greeted lazily, walking round to hop into the passenger’s seat. He slung his bag into the space at his feet and tried not to let his mind wander back to the bright-eyed brunette who had been invading his thoughts more and more. Or the unscrupulous young man who was pursuing her.

The two young men drove for a few blocks in silence, the only sound the engine of the van, until Luis realised that something was bothering his best friend. “Alright man, what’s up?” he asked, briefly swinging his dark eyes from the road over to where Scott was staring out of the passenger window – seemingly a million miles away.

“ _Hmm?_ Oh, nothing…” He replied, attempting to shrug the question off and hoping Luis would pursue the matter no further.

He was wrong.

“Dude… I _know_ that face. Something’s bothering you and you’re going to tell me what it is,” Luis demanded playfully, trying to coax the information out of his companion. He spotted Scott eyeing him with caution - trying to decide whether to share what was on his mind or not.

“ _I’m fine,_ seriously…” the normally upbeat male muttered, crossing his arms in his defensiveness and a sullen frown settling across his features. _Was she only blowing Darren off so that things weren’t awkward between us today?_ Scott wondered solemnly.

“ _Scotty!_ ” Luis mock-scalded him, shoving him loosely as they cleared the junction, “Don’t lie to me!”

Deciding Luis might drop it if he gave him even _part_ of the truth, Scott released an audible breath. “…I just – I don’t get why things get weird with me and Hope whenever Darren’s around…” Scott announced, the exasperation he felt boiling to the surface. He swiped a hand across his forehead and combed his fingers through his hair.

“Man, I hate that guy…” Luis replied, lightly shaking his baseball-capped head, “Weird how?” he asked, after they changed lanes. When Scott didn’t respond straight away, he glanced around to where his glum friend sat. He _hated_ seeing Scott down, it wasn’t his natural state, so when he _was_ having a bad day it seemed that much worse.

“I don’t even really know how…” Scott began in a blatant half-truth, a voice in his head hissing that he _did_ know. Another, kinder one suggested that it wasn’t that he didn’t know, but more that he didn’t _understand_. _God, I just want to go home and crash out for a few hours,_ he complained internally.

“It’s okay man, you’ve probably just got douche fatigue,” Luis soothed, releasing a peal of laughter as he said it, “-he _has_ been showing up an awful lot. Darren, I mean - it’s weird, _isn’t it?_ ”

“ _You come up with that one yourself?_ ” Scott asked dryly, giving Luis a quizzical look. Luis’s crazed smile gave him his answer. As he let the words percolate though, he realised that if Luis was noticing it as well, then _maybe_ how he was feeling _wasn’t_ so crazy. “Yeah, I guess he has - what do you think he wants?” Scott asked cautiously, trying not to let too much of his feelings on the matter bleed into his tone.

“Just a sec,” Luis responded, concentrating on turning the corner onto Scott’s street. The other young man waited patiently until he had his friend’s attention again, seeing his home coming into closer view as they drove down towards it. “That’s the _real_ question Scotty…” Luis answered, as they slowed to a stop outside of his friend’s family home.

The words unsettled Scott. They were words that had been plaguing him within his own thoughts these last few weeks. It also bothered him that Hope even _entertained_ Darren – not that he was _jealous_ though. _Me and Hope are… friends… right?_ He thought quietly, as Luis began to watch him with concern when he sat staring into space, not making a sound.

“You _sure_ you’re okay?” his Latino friend asked, shaking him gently by the shoulder to rouse him.

Scott blinked steadily for a moment, then realising how weird he must have looked, shook himself out of it. “Yeah man – thanks for the lift,” he smiled, grabbing his bag from where he’d stowed it and beginning to climb out of the van.

“No problem,” Luis grinned back, and once Scott was safely on the kerb in front of his house, he wound down the window and yelled out to him, “-you still coming to Emily’s party tomorrow night?”

“I dunno man, I’ll think about it…” Scott called back, a non-committal air to his voice as he shrugged his shoulders.

“I mentioned it to Hope the other day, but I forgot to give her the time that Emily said it starts – could you maybe text her?” Luis asked, a strange look passing across his features as he watched his friend. Scott could’ve _sworn_ it was as if he was testing his reaction.

“Yeah man, sure…” Scott replied, waving goodbye to his friend.

“Thanks, dude,” Luis laughed, unperturbed by the suspicious way that Scott now looked at him. He restarted the van, getting ready to head off again and then beginning to pull away, hollered over his shoulder, “I _will_ see you at Emily’s though!”

Scott couldn’t help but laugh at this – Luis always had a way of _knowing_ what he needed. He hadn’t socialised outside of school other than him, Luis, Kurt and Dave for a while. Maybe going to Emily’s thing was just the ticket - it’d certainly help to take his mind off _things…_ He decided as he walked up to the Lang front door that he’d let Hope know, for Luis, but he already _knew_ that she wouldn’t show. As far as he knew she was on a perpetual weekend-long curfew.

His mom called through to him from the kitchen when he came in, asking how his day was. He replied saying it was fine and moved to the stairs to start taking his sneakers off. She appeared in the doorway to the living room a moment later.

“Dinner will be ready in an hour or so, why don’t you go make a start on your homework before your father gets in?” she smiled softly down at him. Grace Lang was a tallish, middle-aged woman with hair matching the colour of Scott’s own and a pretty blue-eyed face accentuated with light laughter lines, “In the meantime, go grab yourself a soda from the fridge.”

“Thanks, Mom,” he smiled bashfully, before he darted past her to go retrieve his Diet Coke. He gave her a brief hug in greeting on his return, before he disappeared up the stairs.

“And Scott,” she shouted up to him from the Ground Floor, “-that homework _needs_ to be done before the party tomorrow night!”

He briefly poked his head over the bannister, to give her a sheepish grin, “ _Yes, Mom._ ”

He exhaled long and hard when he was _finally_ able to close his bedroom door behind him. Today had been _a lot._ He walked over to his bed - still covered in the Back to the Future duvet set he’d had since he was a child - slinging his bag over towards his study desk. He dumped his wallet, cell phone and keys out onto his nightstand and faceplanted onto the bed. He lay for a few moments breathing in and out slowly until he began to feel the stress, he hadn’t realised he’d been carrying, leave his body.

He lay that way for a while, almost dozing off, until a loud buzz from his phone alerted him to an incoming message. His arm flew out to his nightstand, groping around for where his phone rattled around on it.

_Luis – Yo, did you remember to tell Hope?_

Scott grunted in groggy awareness, realising that he hadn’t yet done that. Flicking across to his messenger app, he began typing out a message - stopping and starting a few times to correct the _many_ spelling errors which littered his initial attempt, in his half-awake state.

 _Scott – Hey_ _😊 Luis said he forgot to give you the time for Emily’s thing. It starts at 7 tomorrow night._

He hesitated before sending the message and then placed his phone back, turning to snuggle down into his bed – close to its edge. A loud clattering ten minutes later, which turned out to indeed be his phone, caused him to nearly fall off his bed.

 _Hope – Hey_ _😊 Thanks! Dad says I can maybe go. For a little while. Although he wants to know if you could give me a lift there and back, first? He’s got a lecture at an event tomorrow night…_

Scott’s heart began to hammer in his chest, not that he really understood why. He still hadn’t met Mr. Pym and the fact he was now asking him to _ensure_ his daughter arrived safely at both destinations was daunting, to say the least. He took a moment to try to settle himself, before he responded. He really enjoyed getting to know her and the potential of being able to do that outside of the school environment – and away from Darren – well, that was just the best.

_Scott – No problem Ms. Van Dyne. When do you want picked up?_

_This doesn’t count as a date – does it?_ Scott began to think, frantically, when he realised just how many of their peers would _also_ be at the party.

_Hope – I don’t want to turn up waaaaaay too early, so maybe like, 7:30? Ish???_

_Scott – Okay, but how am I supposed to find you? :P_

He really didn’t understand what was going on with his body right now. Even the sight of the bouncing ellipsis which told him that Hope was typing, was giving him an irregular heartbeat. It appeared and disappeared for around ten minutes before she finally responded. He could just imagine how hard negotiations with her father were. Especially when it seemed they didn’t really communicate much anyway.

 _Hope – 601 Buena Vista Avenue. My break’s almost over, so I’ve got to get back to class. Sorry_ _☹_

He felt his heart do a somersault, before he quickly hammered in his response.

_Scott – No problem Ms. Van Dyne. See you tomorrow maybe?_

The bouncing ellipsis returned.

_Hope – We’ll see, Lang… 😉_

The blood in his ears sounded unnaturally loud. He couldn’t deny though, that he had felt a small thrill at the prospect that Hope _might_ be at the party.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	4. No 'Funny Business'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott returns from practice to get ready for the evening, spending the time between getting ready, trying to avoid his curious parents and verbally sparring with Hope. 
> 
> The infamous Mr Pym makes his acquaintance. 
> 
> And then he realises that turning up together really might have been a bad idea.

Almost the entire next day had felt like a blur. The only time Scott had been _able_ to focus was during baseball practice and only because he _had_ to. Although his pitching was better than his batting - without _much_ effort – his coach, Mr Barton, had still noticed that he seemed ‘a little distracted’ in practice. It had only been a passing question though, not a lecture. Something Scott was _immensely_ thankful for.

He decided against showering in the team locker room, instead deciding he’d enjoy a long hot soak before he got ready for the party. This was also a tactical decision – as it would limit the time available for his parents to try to gain ‘intelligence’ to use on him later, or to give him another ‘safety’ talk. He loved them, but it was is if they had forgotten they had once been young themselves. His father – Robert Lang - had picked him up after practice had finished, although happily for Scott, had only engaged in baseball related chitchat on the way home. Robert Lang – ‘Bob’ to his friends – was a cheerful, goofy, middle-aged man with russet hair and shared the same olive-green shade of eyes that his son had.

“You going to tell your mom and me any more about Hope?” he asked suddenly, as they pulled into their driveway, casting his son a sly sideways glance.

Scott was caught off-guard for a moment, his hand frozen on the door handle before he got the chance to make his escape. His pulse pounded in his ears while he decided how to respond. To see if he could _finesse_ his way out of this one.

“ _Well_ ,” Scott began, tempering his honesty with _economy_ , his mind beginning to trip over his own thoughts, “she _might_ be going to this party tonight…”

It wasn’t an outright lie – he was only really parroting the words _she_ had sent to _him_ previously. If he was lucky, it would be enough information to satisfy his parents for now. He glanced over to his father once, to try to gauge whether he would be pursuing any further questions. Whilst there was _indeed_ the twinkle of mischief in his father’s eyes, he said nothing more on the matter. This left Scott free to rush out and up the stairs – barricading himself within the upstairs bathroom before his mother had even had a chance to fully register, they were home.

He took a few minutes to let himself catch his breath, then set about getting ready to for relaxation and grooming . It was then that the realisation that he hadn’t checked his phone since before practice, set in. He hadn’t heard from Hope since the previous night – they had messaged back and forth into the wee hours – and he had put off contacting her today. He really _didn’t_ want to pressure her or put her off. After all, they were friends and he _had_ only passed on the message that Luis had asked him to... Deciding to put it off for a moment, he poured his favourite bubble bath into the swirling hot water as he drew his bath, enjoying the gentle, fresh scent.

While the bath ran, he sat on the bathmat with his back resting against the side of the tub. An uncharacteristic tremor in his hand – he told himself it was the last of the adrenaline from practice working its way out of his system – he withdrew his phone from the side pocket of his kitbag.

_1 Unread message - Hope._

A strange arrhythmia settled within his chest. Working up the courage to open the notification, he clicked into the messaging app.

_Hope – Hey Lang :) So, Dad *still* weirdly seems okay with me going to this party…_

He couldn’t help the lazy half-smile which spread on his lips when he re-read the message a second time. And then a third – just to be sure he hadn’t misread it the other two times. He snuck a quick look over his shoulder, to check the level the bath had reached. _Halfway_ , he noted, before he began to type in a reply.

_Scott – Wow, that *is* unusual :P How was practice this morning?_

The dancing dots denoting she was responding, appeared on his phone screen. He wasn’t sure if he was showing _too_ _much_ interest in what she did outside of school. He knew she was guarded about it, but he decided that if she hadn’t wanted to talk, she wouldn’t have begun to write back.

_Hope – Oh, it was delightful… I got clocked in the side of the head by my instructor’s focus pad. Hard._

A jolt of concern shot through Scott. The more conscious part of himself hoped that she was alright and that she hadn’t been hurt. The subconscious part of himself selfishly worried that it meant she _wouldn’t_ be coming to the party. He shook the thought out of his head almost as soon as it had formed. The bouncing ellipsis returned and disappeared a few times over the next fifteen minutes or so. With Hope still flickering between writing a message and not, he snatched a check on the status of his bath and on seeing it was in his perfect ratio of three quarters full to the cosy warmth of mild sunburn, turned the faucet off.

_Hope – Anyway… How was *your* day?_

Scott tested the water again with the lower portion of his arm, before he began to strip off his blue and white baseball uniform. He gently balanced his phone on top of his sports kit, before he climbed into the bathtub and sank into the water. Stretching out his frame as far as he could, he let the warmth of the water help him work out the knots in his lean muscles and enjoyed the contrasting cool feeling of the upper lip of the tub against his feet at the other end. He sat like that for a good twenty minutes or so. Enjoying the peace. Until a buzz and then a second indicated Hope was growing _impatient_ with his lack of conversation.

He chuckled slightly, before rolling over briefly to retrieve his phone and covering the camera – lest a _mishap_ occur – began to reply.

_Scott – Not too bad. Had a few dodgy pitches today, but my batting for some reason was better…_

Hope began furiously typing upon receipt of this new information.

_Hope – Wait… *You* play *baseball*?_

Scott couldn’t help but chuckle at that – he hadn’t even mentioned it to her, but she’d deduced from less than twenty words what sport he was referring to. He never really knew what she thought of him, but obviously the thought of him physically exerting himself had her incredulous. He decided then that she could wait for his answer. After all, he _couldn’t_ be late. He lolled over, dropping his phone back onto the top of his bag and rolled, disappearing under the surface of the pooled water for a few moments before surging back up. Then he pulled the plug and turned the shower on. Once the mixer valve had heated the water back up, he began to shampoo his hair and scrub himself clean with his smoked cedar shower gel – luxuriating in the scent for a few moments before he rinsed himself off.

Finishing up, he smirked when he saw Hope had sent a further _five_ messages, since the time of his previous response.

_Scott – *Wow* Miss Van Dyne, I’m hurt :P (Also, yes)_

He began drying himself off, slinging a towel covering around his hips before he made a break for his bedroom. Safely inside, he locked his door – to prevent any unwanted incursions from his folks and to begin to mentally and physically prepare himself for picking Hope up. Quickly getting his undergarments on, just in case they _did_ manage to walk in on him, he sauntered over to his closet. His phone buzzed loudly, while he tried to decide which of his _many_ checked shirts to wear. He eventually decided on a red and charcoal grey number and stole a quick glance back at his verbal sparring with Hope.

_Hope – I’m sure you’ll survive… Help - I don’t know how what to wear??? :/_

A _stray_ thought told Scott to reply with something along the lines of ‘as little as possible’. At least, he had _convinced_ himself that it was stray. He caught his own eyes in the mirror in his cupboard and scowled. _Where did that come from?_ he wondered internally, his brows knitted together in concern. He must have restarted his reply at least a half dozen times, tying himself in knots over whether he was being helpful or patronising.

_Scott – Where whatever you’re comfortable in???_

Then still convinced it sounded awkward and condescending, he sent another message before he placed his phone on the nightstand:

_Scott – Honestly, don’t sweat it. I’m basically in my normal clothes… :)_

He resumed his search for his party wear and selected a pair of anthracite coloured stonewashed jeans and a hoodie with a red torso and grey accents to the body, sleeves and hood. Slipping his jeans on, the sudden sound of his phone rattling around loudly on the wood caught him by surprise and he almost fell over, before stabilising himself on the doorframe to the closet and snatching it up.

_Hope – Thanks. Helpful as ever :P_

Scott snorted loudly at her sarcastic reply before he put the rest of his clothes on, quickly typing in his own snarky retort for good measure.

_Scott – I do try… :P_

She went silent for a while after that, so Scott instead focused on making sure he was relatively clean shaven and that his hair wasn’t sticking out at _too_ odd an angle. Once he was finished _not styling_ his hair, he felt himself begin to glance nervously at his watch. _Quarter to seven,_ he observed, beginning to get twitchy over whether he should have set off to pick her up earlier. Taking one last look at himself in the mirror - a swell of confidence hitting him when he saw his reflection looked _not bad_ \- he grabbed his wallet and keys and steeled himself before heading out.

He tried his best to quickly creep down the stairs, but his parents were already waiting for him at the foot of them.

“ _Well,_ glad to see you made an _effort,_ Scott…” laughed his father, earning him a swift jab in the ribs from his mother.

His mother, wore the same watery-eyed look she always wore when he went out at night - falling somewhere between the realisation that her son was growing up and worry that this might be the last time she ever saw him. “Ignore him… just be _safe,_ ” she winked at him, with a little _too_ much emphasis placed on the last word.

Scott would have been affronted, if he hadn’t known that his parents shared the same _ridiculous_ sense of humour which they had passed on to him and that the older he had gotten, the more they teamed up on him.

Their combined laughter when they registered the embarrassed shade of pink that had begun to rush into his cheeks, followed him out of the house and all he could muster in response before he left was a brief peck of farewell on his mother’s cheek and a lamely mumbled, _“Thanks guys…”._ Then he skulked off out the front door, to his dad’s red Ford pickup. Climbing into the cab, he sighed for a moment, before putting in the address into his map app.

He saw his parents enthusiastically waving him off from the living room window, before he backed the pickup out from their home on Bellevue Avenue and headed over to pick up Hope. A dull awareness that his palms seemed to have grown clammy and damp, crossed his mind.

      

* * *

 

Hope had spent the last few hours after class trying to make sure she had all her assignments done, before heading to the party – part of her bargain with Dad to allow her to go. That and that she’d be _home_ by 11:30.

Putting the finishing touches to her English essay, she took the opportunity to check the time and realised it was just after 6:15, so she decided to start getting ready. Moving from her study desk to her walk-in wardrobe, she began perusing the contents on the rails at the far end.

 _Do I wear a dress?_ She fussed, pursed lips pulling to one side as she began hurriedly flicking the hangars past for the definite _no’s_. She swithered about whether to try to co-ordinate an outfit consisting of separates instead, when her eyes landed on a draped gold halterneck skater dress with black skirt. It was still wrapped in plastic from the store and had the tag on. She remembered she’d bought it a while ago, but knew then that it must have got lost at the back of her closet. Slipping off her robe, Hope slid the opulent fabric on over her head and turned to admire herself in the mirror. It fit perfectly – a little _too_ perfectly. It skimmed over her chest in a floaty metallic silk, which looked like liquid metal, before nipping in to accentuate her narrow waist and then flaring out again over her athletic hips. She grinned at her reflection.

 _It’ll turn heads…_ Hope thought confidently, before swiping a pair of asymmetrical leggings from her drawers and putting them on. She paced towards her shoe section next, pulling out a few pairs of boots until she decided upon a pair of more practical, heeled and buckled ankle boots. Then she grabbed a stylish, leather biker jacket and headed out of the closet, flicking the switch on her way out. The slender young woman headed across to her dressing table and began to play with her hair in terms of how she would style it, eventually settling on a loose fishtail braid. A quick glance at her alarm clock alerted her to the fact that it was now 6:45pm and so she set about preening herself - going for a simple but chic look of lightly winged eyeliner, a dash of mascara and a dusky pink lip.

“ _Hope?_ ” came the cracked voice of her father, drifting up the stairs, “-a red – _vehicle_ – has pulled up outside…”

She really had to fight the urge to roll her eyes then. _Of course, he wouldn’t be able not to make a comment,_ she grumbled inwardly. Hope told herself that the sudden uptick in her pulse was because she hadn’t been expecting her dad to yell up then. But it only got _worse_ when she heard the doorbell ring and a muffled exchange when Dad answered the door.

“ _Just a moment…_ ” she thought she heard him say, before he shouted up again, “ _Hope?_ Are you _done_ yet?”

“ _Coming!"_ she shouted back, as she misted herself in her favourite perfume. The recognisable notes of a classic Hank Pym interrogation echoed up to where she had crept over to, by her door, now ajar. She listened patiently and tried her best not to audibly giggle as Scott valiantly attempted to outmanoeuvre her fathers questions.

“ _Well,_ ” Hank demanded, his flint-grey eyes anchoring Scott to the spot where he stood, in front of the main door to the house, “-do you _have_ a second name?”

It was then that Scott realised that he _hadn’t_ fully introduced himself – like a _total_ idiot. “ _Lang,_ Sir,” he replied sheepishly, “Scott Lang.” He didn’t miss the way Hank kept watching him, unblinking. It was like he was consciously _trying_ to make him feel as uncomfortable as possible. His experience with Maggie had taught him that male parents could be particularly protective of their teenaged daughters – _especially_ when young men were on the scene. Whilst her dad had eventually warmed up to him over a mutual love of baseball, he doubted that would be an option with Mr Pym.

Scott heard a floorboard creak upstairs and his eyes flew to where he thought the source of the noise was. _Hope’s room must be upstairs,_ he noted silently, beginning to figure out the layout of the Pym household. He’d missed though, that Hank’s hawk-like eyes had spotted where his attention had gone to and when their gaze met briefly, Scott swallowed dryly. _Uh-oh,_ he thought quietly, under the heavy scrutiny.

“Now, _listen well,_ ” Hank said quickly – his eyes like slits – the weight of his tone measured like a blade held only to hint in threat of its sharpness, “-you have Hope back here by 11:30. _No later. And no ‘funny business’…_ ” His voice trailed off, just as the click of a door being closed carried downstairs.

Scott was rooted to the spot. He wasn’t entirely sure what Mr Pym meant by ‘funny business’ at first. _No drinks?_ He wondered initially, _no drugs?_ he continued to ponder dimly and then he _saw_ Hope emerge down the flight towards them...

She. Looked. _Radiant._

And she _knew_ it.

Scott knew then that his dazed expression must have given him away, because Hank _very loudly_ and _very pointedly_ cleared his throat, glowering at him in a way that _made_ Scott realise what he had meant earlier. Then a mask of pleasantness descended across her father’s features and he realised _that_ must be where Hope got her talent for adapting to her audience from.

“Have a good night, Hope,” Hank bid her quietly, pausing for a moment to look at her, before what Scott thought was a hollow, haunted look darkened his eyes and he retreated into their living room.

She stood for a moment, a pained expression marring her face, before she pushed it aside and asked her companion if they should head out. “ _Shall we_ – or were you going to _change?_ ” she beamed at him, devilishly. Although, Scott didn’t miss the waver of emotion in her voice, or the wet sheen to her eyes. It was gone a few moments later – like it had never been there. She was good at changing the subject, he had to give her that.

While she walked past him towards the front door, he sneakily ran his eyes over her form – taking a moment to appreciate how she looked: still very much herself, but less hard-edged.

He gave her a half-smile when he saw her patiently waiting for him on the steps outside, suddenly feeling _much_ less confident about turning up together to the party, despite his _bravado_.

 _Especially_ when Hope looked like _that_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've decided to split this one into two chapters, as I wanted to build up to it and show some family life as well. Sorry if its a little more of a slower pace this chapter. 
> 
> Don't worry, there will be actual party next update. 
> 
> Thanks again to all my readers and hope you're still enjoying it!


	5. To Nothing Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party begins...
> 
> The Ant crew reconvene.
> 
> Explicit hand-holding. Gratuitous Dancing. Swearing. Underage Drinking. You have been WARNED!

Scott drove his dad’s red work pickup carefully – Lang Electrical emblazoned in bold font on the sides - to the party with the other senior’s; his heart had taken up a steady, hard thrum the moment his eyes had seen Hope coming down the stairs towards where he had stood trying to dodge Hank’s questions. She sat just _inches_ from him now and yet he schooled his eyes to remain fixed on the road and not just because he knew he had to drive safely. They had been in quiet for about fifteen minutes into their journey together, before she spoke, “ _I’m sorry,_ about dad that is…”

As much as he wanted to turn around and look at her, Scott forced himself to keep his eyes dead ahead, “Hey, listen, don’t be – he wasn’t _that_ bad...” smirking as spoke, “But, just so we don’t upset him, I’ve set a timer for when we’d need to leave the party for, to get you back in time _Cinderella…_ ”

Hope snorted at that; an amused expression visible in the reflection from the headlights of the other cars when he glanced at her briefly – his willpower failing - her green eyes glistening like emeralds in the night. She swung her eyes to him then and Scott felt his heart rate increase further.

“ _So,_ ” Hope began, staring at him while her feline eyes narrowed, “-what are we going to do about _this?_ ” she asked bluntly, gesturing between them. Scott had to stop himself from slamming on the brakes in panic - the question catching him _completely_ off guard. He could feel his heart hammering against his rib cage and was worried that she could hear it. _No, Scott, that’s not possible,_ he chided himself, _she’d have to have superhuman hearing…_

“ _Lang?_ ” she demanded, when he didn’t respond or even acknowledge that she had said anything, an edge of hurt in her voice, “-what’s _wrong?_ I was only _joking…”_

 _Uh-oh,_ Scott realised dimly, a disappointed twinge in his chest that he hadn’t realised was there flickered into existence, before it was gone again. He slowed to a stop at the traffic lights – which were still on red – and took the opportunity to cast his eyes over her again. He felt a weight form in his chest when he spotted the frown of upset marring her features and felt himself mirror it.

“I _meant_ what we were going to do when we get to the party…” the young woman announced in a small voice, when she realised, he was watching her intently, beginning to worry the loose brunette strands at the end of her fishtail braid.

“ _Oh,_ ” Scott replied, trying to downplay the whole situation and put her more at ease, “-I mean, we _could_ go in together – wouldn’t that be _scandalous_?” he trailed off in an exaggerated gasp.

Hope rolled her eyes at him teasingly but couldn’t hide the smile which struggled free from her – despite her best efforts, “What would people _say?_ ”

“ _Nothing good,_ ” Scott guffawed, before spotting the lights change and taking them across the junction and onto the street where their destination loomed at the end. She smirked in response to that, their eyes meeting briefly, before she averted them again – suddenly shy once more.

He spotted a gap between the parked cars dotted along the street, that grew denser towards the house the party was being held in and indicated into it before bringing the pickup to a stop. Hope began to root around in her bag for something as he finished parking up and then set about neatening herself up – not that he thought she needed it all. She _always_ looked put together, at least to him. They remained in silence, save for the muffled boom of the bass from the libations and celebrations drifting down the street towards them.

“If you’re _quite_ finished, Miss Van Dyne – _shall we?_ ” he grinned over to her, swiping the keys out of the ignition and pocketing them, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He noticed the way she mirrored his gaze, before she hopped out of the cab and walked around to wait for him on the kerb. Scott followed a moment later – taking a few seconds to muss up the cowlick which had formed in his hazel hair.

“I can hang back a bit, you know, just so it doesn’t look like we _totally_ came here _together…_ ” Hope announced, fiddling again with her braid, the last word hanging heavily in the air between them. She glanced up at him nervously as they walked towards the venue – music growing stronger as they did. Scott stopped dead in his tracks and scowled lightly. _She’s all on edge,_ he noted, eyeing the way her confidence from earlier seemed to have ebbed.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Scott laughed heartily, trying to reassure her as best he could that he _didn’t_ care what the rest of their year group thought about _a boy_ and _a girl_ being friends. _Because we are,_ he reminded himself, choosing not to acknowledge the strange thoughts that had been dancing around in his head for the last few days. Ever since Luis had mentioned the party. That seemed to do the trick, bringing Hope’s smile back for a moment. Neither realised they were now within sight of the front door.

“ _Scott?_ ” yelled the shocked voice of Maggie, who was walking from the other end of the street towards them on the sidewalk outside of the gate to the house. Paxton’s arm was draped loosely over her shoulder, “Oh my _god!_ You’re like actually attending a High School party!” Scott stiffened immediately when he heard her and felt Hope’s eyes on him.

“Hi Maggie,” he smiled at her, eyes flickering over to Hope, who followed his lead and smiled brightly at the pair now across from them.

“Scott,” greeted Paxton politely, but with the same guarded look in his eyes – like he was still making up his mind about him. Then his eyes drifted over to Hope, and he did a bit of a double-take between the two of them, “I don’t think we’ve met?” he asked, extending his hand towards her in greeting. Hope beamed back at him, as she introduced herself – earning an intrigued look from Maggie when she spotted the way Scott had watched the whole interaction.

“Nice to see you get out though,” Maggie said, shoving him lightly, while Paxton and Hope chatted genially, “-you look _good._ ” He chuckled nervously in response to her unexpected compliment – especially with her new beau _so_ nearby. Her cackle at his twitchy reaction immediately put him back at ease though as he realised, she was most _definitely_ messing with him. “Thank you for dragging this sorry mess out, Hope – he’s normally a total hermit!” she laughed, as she reached for Paxton’s hand and tugged gently signalling they were to make their way inside, waving farewell at the two they left on the sidewalk.

“So, _that’s_ Maggie?” Hope queried nodding her head towards the diminishing form of Scott’s old flame, a hint of uncertainty in her voice, as she waited for him to confirm her assumption.

“ _Yeah…_ ” he replied as he offered her a small smile, seeing her register the information with an odd, satisfied expression on her face. One he wanted to ask her about later, if he got the opportunity. “ _Shall we?_ ” he asked jokily, offering her his arm and was taken by total surprise when she took it and they walked up the front steps together. A bizarre cocktail of apprehension and pride - at the looks they were drawing from the other partygoers on the front porch outside - grew inside of him, whilst Hope remained seemingly unaware.

That didn’t last long however - as soon as they walked through the front door and into the party, the gazes grew heavy and the hushed whispers, louder. He could feel Hope’s light grip on his arm grow tight in reaction to it. His mind pored over how they could possibly get out of this with some flair, then felt how dry his mouth was, as he walked them both over to a corner with some space to _breathe_. “I’m going to go get a drink - you want anything?” he asked in a raised voice, leaning in so she could hear him over the music, the scent of her perfume burning itself into his memory as he gently unwound the death-grip she had on his arm.

“I thought you were driving us back?” she asked, a perplexed expression crossing her features.

“Nah – I want to _enjoy_ myself,” he chuckled, then catching her unamused look, “-my dad gave me cash to cover our taxi’s.”

Hope nodded in recognition of his original question. “I can get mine…” she responded quietly, but he had already disappeared off into the crowd, leaving her to stand alone for the time being.

Hope steeled herself, knowing that her appearance her with Scott would only draw attention – unwanted and _otherwise_. She smiled politely at the few faces she _did_ recognise that passed by occasionally, receiving small grins or waves of acknowledgement in return. Settling a little - now in the knowledge that her presence here wasn’t _so unusual_ and that there would be a few that she could make idle chit chat with at least, she relaxed slightly.

A commotion to her left, drew her eyes over and she had to stifle a laugh when Scott emerged – holding their drinks triumphantly aloft. He wandered back across to her, grinning like an idiot – in that endearing way of his. “I didn’t know what you wanted – so I got you a Jack and Coke…” he announced regretfully, voice trailing off as he searched her gaze for any sign that this was an _acceptable_ option. Relief released throughout him when she accepted it gratefully – although with a confused expression in her eyes. _The straw!_ He realised dimly, before reaching into his shirt pocket and offering it to her.

“ _Thanks_ ,” she laughed, before taking a hearty sip. She raised her glass a moment later, earning her a befuddled look from her companion. “Come on, don’t you think this is worth toasting? You survived your first meeting with Hank Pym, _and_ we got here in one piece!” she jibed, smiling beautifully up at him out of the corner of her eyes.

Scott laughed at that, _she’s not wrong,_ he thought. “Okay, let’s toast to - that - and look at all the people scandalised by us being here, _as friends,_ ” he smirked, gesturing with his beer over to those who still watched and commented on their very being seen in public together. Outside of school.

“To nothing good,” Hope proposed cheerfully, raising her glass.

“ _To nothing good,_ ” Scott chuckled in response, clinking his beer off her glass, before taking a long swig – his Adam’s apple bobbing as he drank. He missed the way her eyes watched him intently, languidly running down his tall form as he casually leaned against the wall behind them. “I found Luis and the others by the way, they’re out back by the pool – if we want to go hang out with them?” he told her, asking her for her input. He was happy either way, so long as _she_ was.

Hope turned the idea over in her head briefly, before nodding enthusiastically, “Ladies first, Mr. Lang.”

Scott batted his eyelids coquettishly at her, prompting Hope to respond with the bemused look that he so _loved_ to earn from her. He started to move off, taking a moment to figure out the best route outside and threw her a glance over his shoulder, before offering her his hand. She looked down at it, as if the very _idea_ were _alien_ , “Just might lose you in the crowd – there’s a lot of people packed out in the next few rooms,” he explained earnestly and satisfied that there was no deceit in his tone or expression, she gingerly took his hand. It fit hers in a manner that was strangely comfortable but was warm and reassuring. She smiled a little when she realised, _Just like him…_

Neither spotted the set of eyes that followed them weaving through the crowd then, narrowing at the sight.

Eventually they reached the kitchen and were able to skirt around the large group currently engrossed in a drinking game going on, relatively unseen, before they slipped out onto the back porch – the pool in sight. Whilst it was still busy out here, with a scattering of couples getting hot and heavy right next to them – prompting them both to embarrassedly lower their eyes, it was cooler and less raucous. Scott squeezed her hand gently, before leading her carefully down the steps and onto the lawn, down the winding path towards the pool. As they drew closer, they could see Maggie and Paxton cosied up at one end, dipping their feet lazily in the pool not far along from where Luis and the guys were sprawled out lazily on some deck furniture.

Kurt was the first to spot them, raising an eyebrow in question, before nudging Dave out of his snoozing. This in turn prompted Luis to roll over from his lounging and with an unnervingly happy grin, he bounded up and out of his seat – spilling his drink a bit, as he headed over to greet them, _“_ _¡Scotty, Hope - hayas venido!_ ”

“Good to see you too!” Scott laughed, slapping his friend lightly on the back when he hugged him tightly – obviously a few drinks further in than them. He shrugged helplessly over at Hope from within the embrace - who tried her best to deafen her sniggers, before moving over to take up a seat across from Kurt and Dave. The two of them looked like their eyes were about to fall out of their heads. They were both normally bashful around her, but she felt a surge of confidence when she realised that they must be surprised by her appearance and had to suppress a giggle as she relished it. She _knew_ that it had had _no_ small effect on Scott, when she had seen his goofy face as she came down to rescue him from dad earlier.

“ _Relax,_ ” she smiled at them friendlily, before placing her drink down, “-it’s just me.”

“We were, _uh,_ just about to say how lovely you looked,” Dave fumbled clumsily, earning himself a worried glance from Kurt.

“What Dave means to say is, you are _pleasant_ surprise,” Kurt offered, before seeing Hope’s somewhat incredulous reaction, then clarifying - with a furious magenta tinging his cheeks, “ _-your arrival,_ he means…”

“ _Well,_ ” she replied, enjoying every minute that she could make them squirm, “- _thank you._ ”

“Glad you could make it though,” Dave grinned – taking a drink, before bluntly adding, “-we were worried it was going to be a _sausage_ _fest_ all night.” Kurt put his face in his palms and shook his head as Hope’s expression grew more and more amused. “ _Yo,_ what’re you shaking your head at man?” Dave protested, nudging his dark-haired friend, who only scowled at him in response, before turning to Hope.

“Ignore him – I apologise for his… inebriation,” Kurt offered, his dark-eyed expression doleful, as the words registered with Dave and he didn’t look happy with what was being implied. _At all._ Hope glanced over to Scott – still in deep discussion with Luis, judging from the wildly gesticulating hands - who met her eyes briefly and seemed to be asking what was going on, to which she simply smiled and gestured that she had _no idea_.

“ _Inebriation?_ Dude, that is _cold –_ even for you…” Dave bemoaned, placing his drink squarely on the table, “-I only fell asleep because I was working _all_ last night!”

“Yes, yes,” Kurt muttered in response, before giving Hope a look that showed he didn’t believe a _word_ of what Dave was proclaiming – earning him a genuine laugh from her, which made the normally stoic young man smile, “ _-hard_ at _work._ ”

Dave’s face was _incredulous_. He couldn’t believe they were both joshing him now, “Oh come on,” he whined, staring in disbelief at Hope, “- _you too?_ ”

Hope held up her hands in defence, “I have _no_ idea what you two are bickering about, but I’m finding it _very_ entertaining,” she giggled, the musical notes of her laughter reaching Scott, who looked over confused – but happy that she seemed to be enjoying herself. Kurt also burst into an uncharacteristic fit of giggles, as Dave began to sit in a huff – put out at being the focus of their needling.

Kurt leaned forward, beckoning for Hope to do the same, before he began to whisper in a conspiratory tone, “Dave is just _tad_ grumpy – you see, he had _date_ last night,” he told her, pausing as they both glanced over at their irked friend. Hope was unable to contain the surprised smile which spread on her lips, mentally storing the information for future use, before Kurt continued filling her in, “-but he _struck out._ ”

“Did I _miss_ much?” Scott asked abruptly, as he sat down next to Kurt opposite her and with Luis next to her.

“Oh, not _much –_ Kurt was just telling me about Dave’s latest _romantic conquest,_ ” she smirked, earning amused looks from Scott and Luis, who promptly joined in the good-natured teasing. The group carried on like that, with Dave slowly recovering from his annoyance and returning the _favour_ to Kurt, who apparently had been ‘making eyes’ with a girl near the drinks table each time they’d gone for refills. Kurt shyly blushed and tried to shrug it off, before he suspiciously offered to go and get another round for them – with Dave _immediately_ saying he would assist to help him.

“This is _nice,_ ” Luis announced – breaking the silence that had fallen over the group - smiling broadly as the three friends sat together under the stars, “-the gang all hanging out, having a good time.”

“Yeah,” replied Scott happily, leaning back in his seat, arm slung casually over the back of the deck-couch, beer propped on his thigh in the other, “-I thought there’d be more _dancing_ though,” he laughed, eyeing Luis pointedly. Hope frowned slightly, unsure of the meaning of his comment.

“Oh, _Scotty_ – we both know I need a few more drinks to be breaking out _those_ moves!” Luis laughed loudly, clapping his hand on his chest as he did. The two friends exchanged a strange look, before deciding to bring Hope up to speed, “-the last party we were both at, Scott and I got into a _heated_ dance-off with some guys from another school…”

Hope snorted in amusement, “I’m having trouble picturing _that_ ,” she giggled, fixing Scott with a look that screamed ‘really?’.

“Quite frankly, Miss Van Dyne, I’m _offended_ you don’t believe I could hold my own in a dance-off...” Scott chuckled, his timbre rich and deep – a hand splayed across his torso in mock-affront.

“Well, maybe I’d be more _inclined_ to believe you, if I had _visible_ proof,” Hope retorted, after releasing the straw to her Jack and Coke from her lips. She didn’t miss the way that Scott’s eyes lingered there - the colour of aged copper in the dull light by the poolside. Then his expression grew to one of offense.

Luis’s eyes grew wide - like things were starting to get _good_ – giving Dave and Kurt a gesture to hurry and watch, when they arrived back with their drinks.

“ _Proof_ you say?” Scott fired back, leaning over nearer to her – wearing a wolfish smile on his face at her challenge. He wasn’t _quite_ sure if it was the alcohol, or the haughty air to Hope’s voice that had sent a rush of courage through him, but he’d be _damned_ if he backed down now. Especially when Hope blinked back at him, momentarily caught of guard, before she rallied again with a vixen-ish smirk of her own. A look that near stopped his heart.

“Alright, _Lang,_ ” she near growled, beginning to feel the effects of what they had imbibed, herself. She drew out his surname tortuously, as she delicately placed down her glass, “- _show me_ then...”

“ _Fine_ ,” he replied childishly, “-You’re on!”

“Are we _dancing_ now?” asked Kurt excitedly, beginning to fuss over his quaff whilst Dave tried to process what had happened while they were away, glancing to Luis for guidance.

Luis mouthed ‘like a _knife’_ over at him in reply.  Eventually catching up with his meaning – that being the blossoming tension between Scott and Hope - he nodded his approval, before joining in to observe.

Kurt stood suddenly, popping his collar stylishly – in his own way - before checking the number of buttons he had undone. He gave himself a satisfied small grin, before he bowed in front of Hope graciously. “Would you like to dance, Hope?” before adding something she couldn’t quite make out, as he offered her his arm, “Ты выглядишь очень красиво...”

Whatever he had said, caused Scott to quickly raise his eyebrows in surprise, “Hey, pump the _brakes_ there, _Romeo!_ ”

 _Loving_ that whatever it was had _so_ rattled Scott, she gladly took Kurt’s arm, both sending him a victorious look before they disappeared inside to dance. Scott, Luis and Dave all exchanged glances, before Scott sent them one of warning when they both started to waggle their eyebrows at him knowingly - causing his face to tint crimson across the cheeks, “ _Can it,_ both of you!” he mumbled in annoyance.

“Well, I _dunno_ about you losers, but I don’t _plan_ on sitting outside feeling sorry for _myself_ ,” announced Dave as he rose and stretched, determined to get over his lack of success on the dating scene and to find himself some new prospects.

“He’s _right_ Scott,” announced Luis, moving over to sit with his friend as he grumbled inwardly, “-besides, you’ll need to rescue her from Kurt, or _worse..._ ” he trailed off, getting up to stand by Dave before casually throwing into conversation, “-we saw _Darren_ here, _by the way..._ ”

Scott’s eyes flew to his at the very _mention_ of the other male.

Dave raised an eyebrow at this, before waving himself off and sauntering inside.

“ _Come on,_ Scotty,” tittered Luis, shaking his head lightly as he helped his friend up and led him back into the party. They wound their way slowly throw the crowd until they reached the room where most of the dancing was going on - spotting Kurt and Hope laughing and dancing away to Duran Duran’s _Hungry Like the Wolf_ , in the centre of the gyrating seniors.

Scott couldn’t help but watch her - she’d told him in jest once that _the only dancing she did, was in the ring._

Evidently, she had _lied_.

 _How_ she _wasn’t_ the envy of every guy there, he didn’t know – but what _was_ certain was that all the other girls out there looked like they were working _twice_ as hard to hold their partners attention. Case in point – a furious looking Beckah, who was pulling out _every_ trick she knew in an attempt to keep Darren’s eyes on _her_. And she was failing. The song ended and just as Scott saw his opportunity to ask her to dance – Kurt was excusing himself to go and try his luck with the girl he’d had his eye on all night – Darren beat him to the punch.

“Do my eyes _deceive_ me?” he asked, voice laced with flirtation as Hope turned to greet him, all bright smile and her skin flushed from dancing. Scott fought the spark of anger, as he saw how Darren looked at her. It was hypocritical – _he knew_ – but he realised in that moment he couldn’t deny his _attraction_ to Hope any longer. Not when he wanted to punch Darren in his _stupid_ face. _Hard._

“I’m _sorry_ man,” Luis offered, placing his hand on Scott’s shoulder in condolence, “That’s what I meant outside - that _pendejo_ has had one eye on anything with a _pulse_ and one eye on the door waiting for _Hope_ to arrive, all night...”

“I,” Scott began to say, trying to cover up the waver of dejection in his voice, “I need another beer...”

Luis waved him off, before shouting after him to get _him_ one too, as he watched one of their classmates changing the record over.

Scott eventually found his way to the pantry where all the booze was being kept, snatching a beer up to rest against his head – as if the sudden cold would banish the sight of Darren sleazing over Hope from his mind’s eye. He collapsed in defeat, bracing himself against the door frame as he felt the feeling settle in his chest. It felt like he’d been kicked _squarely_ in the _heart_.

Little did he know; he’d been followed by _someone_. “ _Scott Lang..._ ” Beckah slurred, as she slinked into view, her fingers wandering up his chest “-why the long face?”

Scott’s eyes opened almost imperceptibly wider in panic, the curvy blonde had him _cornered_. He’d heard many a tale of her doing this to guys at parties - cornering them until she got what she wanted. According to a very frightened Luis, she could be _very_ _persuasive_...

“Uh, hi, Beckah,” Scott replied, trying to inch his way around her, back pressed tightly to the wall. She followed him, shadowing his movements like a predator that had smelled blood.

“ _You know,_ ” she smiled at him, stepping closer and placing her arm as a barrier across the doorway, blocking his escape route, “-You’re actually _not_ half bad looking...”

“Really, Beckah?” he asked, the vanity in him stirred by her compliment, “ _Thanks,_ I guess?”

“I don’t get why _any_ girl _wouldn’t_ want to dance with you...” she purred, her free hand moving to brush his hip, “ _I_ _would_...” she breathed standing up to ghost her lips by his ears. Scott would have been lying if he’d said he _didn’t_ find the offer _tempting_ – with the potent molotov cocktail of alcohol, puberty and hormones roiling around inside of him. After all, Beckah wasn’t _entirely_ unattractive herself. But she also _wasn’t_ Hope.

His mind flew over his options to _finesse_ his way through this, although it took him _longer_ than he would have liked - as a result of Beckah’s purposefully sultry stroking of his arms and chest to distract him. “ _Would you?_ ” Scott asked her, trying his hardest to focus and not give into his body’s increasing cries to give into his basest impulses with her, “-dance with me?”

“With _pleasure_ ,” she near _squealed_ , dragging him through to where Darren and Hope still danced. He didn’t miss the way Darren was looking down at Hope, _or_ the way he seemed to be inching his hands from around her shoulders, _downwards…_

Hope glanced over, spotting the blur of red she _thought_ she recognised in her peripheral – earning him a scowl from Darren. As the DJ changed the record - this time to INXS’s _Need You Tonight_ \- Beckah redoubled her efforts to make Darren jealous, with him.

Hope looked surprised when she glanced over as the chorus kicked in, especially when she saw _who_ Scott was dancing with.

Part of him felt disappointed in himself - for being used as a pawn like this - but then he saw how Darren leaned down and whispered something in her ear that made her tinge _pink_ and it made him want to wipe that stupid sneer off his face even _more_.

She whispered something back, to which Darren sent him an infuriatingly _triumphant_ look, before he disappeared off and left her there on her own after the song had ended. Beckah didn’t miss this and dumped Scott on his own too, zooming off after her intended partner.

Hope smiled over at him, waving when she realised, they’d both been abandoned. “Hi,” she greeted him, wandering over to where he stood, “ _So_ , I see you _can_ dance...”

“ _Likewise,_ ” he smiled down at her teasingly – unable to contain it anymore, as if he had been deprived of air - the warmth beginning to settle back into his chest, “ _Darren_ kept you _busy?_ ”

“We’re just _friends_ ,” she emphasised, before averting her gaze shyly. Something Darren had said had made her uncomfortable and that didn’t sit _right_ with Scott. The primal, masculine part of himself wanted to _know_ what it was, but the sensitive side of himself didn’t want to press the issue. If she wanted to share it - she would - at another time.

The record was changed again, this time to Pat Benatar’s _Love is a Battlefield_ , with Scott noting during the opening bars that Kurt had managed to get his girl and that Dave and Luis had found their own dance partners.

 _Guess this is it,_ Scott told himself, feeling his courage cresting like a great wave. “Do you want to join them?” Scott asked, lacking any form of overtone to his question.

Hope seemed to take a moment to process the question, _frozen,_ sending his pulse racing in fear. _Have I broken her?_ He wondered, before she blinked and returned to being _present_ again.

“I thought you’d _never_ ask,” she smiled up at him – dazzling as a star - telling herself that her skin had gone flush from all of the dancing she’d done and _not_ from the way Scott had been looking at her increasingly over the course of the night…

He reached his hand out for hers, their fingers ghosting each other and grinned down at her, waiting until she realised, he wanted her to lead them out. She quirked an eyebrow slightly at this, surprised at the gesture, before she clasped her hand in his, lifting his arm and draping it across the bare flesh at her shoulder.

Scott drew in a breath at that. It was _soft_ – softer than he’d imagined it would be – yet as he snuck a glance over the planes of her exposed back, he could see the shifting, toned muscle below, when she moved. He felt his gaze drifting _downwards_ , along the column of her spine and caught himself before his imagination ran away with itself - shaking the unbidden images out of his head.

“Are you _okay?_ ” she asked, firing him a concerned look over shoulder as she turned to face him.

“I’m _great_ ,” he smiled at her, unsure of what to do next. It wasn’t that he _didn’t_ want to touch her – Lord knows that’s _all_ he wanted to do now that he knew what her skin felt like – but he didn’t want to push her into anything either. He was happy for her to take the lead and guide them through these uncharted waters. “I just feel _lucky,_ ” he admitted, leaning down closer so she heard him.

“ _Why?_ ” she asked, confusion marring her sculpted brow.

“Because I got to get to know _you,_ ” Scott admitted timorously and a little louder than he would’ve liked. She placed a hand on his chest - splayed out as if to steady herself.

When their eyes met, he knew – even in his alcohol fuelled haze – that he was in _deep_.

Hope was _beautiful._ Smart. Funny. And she was dancing with _him_ because _she_ wanted to. He was the envy of _every_ guy there. “ _Scott..._ ” she breathed, like the air had been stolen from her lungs. Conflict seemed to wind its way through her form, like she was holding herself back and he cursed himself then for having said anything at all.

Then her eyes returned to his and set his desire _aflame._ Hope surged forwards, their lips inches from each other – the scent of her perfume filling his sense of smell and their proximity and her hand in his driving him mad with _want_.

Just as she crept forward, closing the distance between them, the reminder he’d set on his phone jolted him back down to earth. With a thud. The spell was _broken._ “ _Shit,_ ” Scott ground out in anguish, her arms still wound around his neck.

“What’s _wrong?_ ” Hope asked, releasing him and stepping back – she too now seeming to come out of their enchantment.

“-Carriage is turning into a pumpkin, _Cinderella_...” he muttered mournfully, earning him a baffled look in response, “I promised your dad I’d have you back on time, _I’m sorry..._ ” he apologised, sorrow in his eyes.

“Oh,” she replied, coming more to her senses. Scott’s stomach _plummeted_ in _disappointment_.

They had nearly _kissed_.

 _Damn you, Hank Pym..._ Scott thought, bitterly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's read/been reading so far - I am SO humbled by the response this *nugget* of a story has received! I feel truly blessed :)
> 
> Well, slightly longer chapter - just because (nothing to do with getting carried away with writing openly flirting Hope and Scott - nope, nothing to see here, move along)...
> 
> Hope this update was worth the wait and hope to see you all at the next one :)


	6. Not Most Girls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party continues.
> 
> Scott gives Hope a friendly assist.
> 
> An unexpected encounter.

Scott stood opposite Hope, racking his brain for the right words, but the moment had gone. The DJ started up another record while they both remained rooted to the spot, unsure of what to do - this time cranking up the distinctive opening bass line of Hall & Oates’ _Maneater_. Like a circling shark, in slid Darren – sweeping Hope into another dance – _despite_ Scott’s protests. He wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol in his system making him feel like his stomach was drop out from below, or if it was only _amplifying_ how he _really_ felt. But, as he watched them dance he realised he’d had his chance to tell her of his developing feelings and he knew then that he’d _blown_ it.

“I thought you guys were supposed to be hitting the road?” asked Luis, coming up beside him, a look of concern for his friend painted across his cinnamon features.

“ _We were..._ ” Scott replied quietly, “-need a ride home?” he asked, trying to push the matter aside, slapping onto his face as broad a grin as he could muster.

“Nah man, I’m good - Carlos is gonna get me, Dave and Kurt home,” Luis answered, before taking a long drink of his beer. “Don’t you think you should go rescue her though?” he pressed, once he had finished, seeing right through Scott’s attempt to mask his unease and regarding him slyly out of the corner of his eye.

Scott snorted in amusement at the suggestion that the young woman needed rescuing at all, “If there’s _one_ thing I’ve learned about Hope, its that she’s _more_ than capable of taking care of herself.”

“Okay, maybe not _rescue_ then – think of it more as a _friendly assist?_ ” Cackled Luis, before shoving Scott out onto the dance floor and out of his moping spot.

 _Shit,_ panicked Scott, recognising after a quick glance around that he was the only one on his own out there, _Shit, shit, shit!_

Regaining his cool quickly, he threw a playful scowl over his shoulder at his best friend, who merely responded with his characteristic enthusiastic grin. Returning his eyes to the crowd of revellers, he spotted the two over on the far side of the makeshift dancefloor and slowly edged his way over, making every effort not to catch Darren’s attention. From her body language, he thought he could sense that Hope _wanted_ to leave – from the way she seemed to be wearing a polite smile on her face and didn’t seem to be overly engaging with the other teenager’s attempts at conversation. He also caught sight of Beckah prowling in his periphery and a quick check of her position reassured Scott that it wasn’t _his_ attention she was after. Her eyes were locked on her former partner’s proximity to Hope – sharp as blades. _Oh no,_ he thought densely as he began to realise what that look meant: _trouble._

He watched with grim fascination as the scorned blonde rushed forwards - seemingly at half-speed as he watched, with her drink outstretched in front of herself – feigning a fall and promptly dumped its contents _all over_ Hope. Despite the look of humiliation that he saw ghost across Hope’s face, he couldn’t believe his eyes when Darren instead rushed to support Beckah, who was presently milking the return of his attention for everything it was worth. She lay sprawled across the space the two had been dancing in, rolling in faked pain as Darren and several other partygoers tried to get her up and checked over. Hope meanwhile merely lingered, looking on – a twinge tightened his chest at the sight. He scolded himself for feeling a fleeting sense of gratitude towards the blonde for having created him an opening, but despite that, he still took it.

“ _Hey Cinderella,_ are you okay?” he asked, his bright, olive-brown eyes searching hers as her tried to gauge the reaction in her watery orbs. A jolt of relief electrified him when after a silent few moments, she shakily nodded her head. As he watched her, Scott could tell she was upset, but that she didn’t want to show it. Thinking on his feet, he realised she was probably soaked through and would be embarrassed to be standing there in such a state. Instinct more than consciousness drove him to shuck off his red and grey hoodie, quickly holding it out like an offering. Her gaze dropped down to it and she stared at it for a moment like a dog that had been shown a card trick. “You, _uh,_ can put this on if you like – you know, if you wanted to go freshen up?” he suggested, beginning to usher her away from where they were.

She nodded silently, but the look of appreciation in her eyes made his chest puff up with pride. Gently taking it from his hands, she held it out for a moment as if sizing it up and then moved in the direction of the bathroom, Scott trailing after her slowly at a comfortable distance. She slipped inside, pausing before closing the door to flash him a faint, glowing smile. Scott reclined against the wall in the corridor outside, a few feet away from the door and exhaled deeply with a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. Deciding she’d be a few minutes, he wandered further down the passage to where the wall phone hung, so he could call them a cab. The sounds from one of the bedrooms he passed on the way there made his cheeks tinge rosily - whilst a vague imagining began to enter his own mind until he shook the thought violently from his head. He _swore_ to himself it was only the alcohol still working its way out of his system. He dialled the cab company, booking a pickup at the end of the street in ten minutes time and then paced back to wait for his companion.

On the other side of the wall, Hope took in her dishevelled appearance – her hair was plastered to her face and neck in places and her dress was covered in dark coloured alcohol and mixer. Yet, Scott had appeared quietly and without her looking for him, to lend a hand. _Well,_ she mused, as she glanced down at where she had set his top down, _a hoodie to be precise._ Still, the thought brought a smile to her face and she released a happy sob – finally letting out the pent-up frustration of having a drink thrown over her in front of everyone there.

A light knocking on the door alerted her to Scott’s continued presence outside, “ _Hope? You okay in there?_ ” he called gently from the other side.

Hope beamed at that and walked over to the door, mirroring the pattern of his knocks which earned her an audible chuckle from through the closed bathroom entrance. “ _I’m fine,_ just a few more minutes and I’ll be out!” she replied, trying to stifle her own renewed mirth.

“Take your time, there’s no rush,” answered Scott, before she heard his footsteps retreat a little further down the hall.

Hope pressed her forehead to the door in gratefulness for a moment, before she returned to the sink and set about straightening herself up. She began by wringing out the excess moisture from her dress and dabbed it slightly with some dry toilet paper to remove any that remained, as much as she could, then she glanced down at Scott’s hoodie. She slipped it on over her shoulders, surprised by how much bigger it seemed on her smaller frame. _He’s not that much taller than me, is he?_ She wondered internally, as the looser fabric seemed to pool slightly around her lower arms and torso. She caught scent of a pleasant rich aroma, with a hint of pepper and cedar and realised it was coming from his top. _Cologne?_ The young woman pondered, deciding after a moment that she enjoyed it. Catching sight of her still damp hair in the mirror, she quickly touched up her makeup and then embarked on trying to figure out what to do with her tresses – her fingers nimbly beginning to unwind her braid and she found that it now formed glossy, loose curls as she unwound it. Happier now that she at least could cover up the worst of the damage to her dress, she slowly pulled the zip up and was given another waft of the scent, which prompted her to bury her face into the hoodie’s fabric to further enjoy it. The rational part of Hope’s mind reprimanded her for being ‘a creep’ a few moments later. Taking hold of the edge of the sink she stared herself in the eyes and sighed deeply, squaring her shoulders before she decided to face the party again.

Scott turned at the sound of the bathroom door opening and nearly staggered backwards at the sight of Hope walking out, her dress largely obscured below the hoodie, only the lower portion of skirt poking out from below. _His hoodie._ Hope tilted her head at him quizzically when she spotted the strange look he was giving her, letting her glossy, damp curls cascade down. If he cared about being _honest_ with himself then, Scott would have admitted that this was starting to get _very_ similar to a dream he’d had in the run up to the party. Instead, Scott flew into a blind panic as he instead fretted about whether she could see through his reaction and began to stumble over his own words, “You look _better_ , I mean, not that you didn’t before – it’s just that, look, I’m sorry about what Beckah did…” he mumbled, rubbing the scruff at the nape of his neck as he spoke, in his endearingly bashful manner.

“ _Relax,_ Lang – I already _feel_ a hundred times better… so thank-you,” she smiled shyly through her lashes at him, beginning to fidget with the sleeves of his hoodie. Scott’s heard leapt at her admission, subtle as it was. Then the two fell into a prolonged silence, neither unsure of what to do or say after the events thus far - at least until he remembered the cab booking.

“ _Listen,_ I hope you don’t _mind_ , but I took the liberty of booking our ride home while you were getting tidied up…” Scott announced, breaking the quiet which had fallen between them. He was thankful when Hope shook her head to indicate that she didn’t object, “Okay then, well we should probably start heading as it’ll get to the pickup point at the end of the street in a few.”

Taking up point, Scott scouted ahead to see if he could find a route with the least amount of partygoers and was surprised to find that the house seemed to have largely emptied into the pool area out the back and the kitchen area to the rear. He could hear Beckah and Darren _audibly reconciling_ in the kitchen and couldn’t help the smug satisfaction he felt at that moment - _Good,_ he thought to himself, _maybe that means they’ll both back off and leave Hope alone..._ The kinder part of himself mutely _prayed_ that Hope _didn’t_ hear it, as he didn’t want her to have to deal with anything else tonight. Gesturing to his companion that the coast was clear, the two of them slipped off through the front door, down the steps and out into the cool night air.

“ _Truthfully,_ I kind of wanted to leave _earlier,_ ” Hope announced suddenly, as they began to stroll up the street, her eyes fixed on the ground. The admission surprised Scott and he stopped in his tracks, turning to her with a light scowl beginning to form on his brow.

“ _Oh,_ ” he muttered quietly, unsure of whether he should apologise or not for keeping her out so late.

Hope hadn’t missed the way his eyes grew downcast when she had said it and after a few seconds it dawned on her that he must have thought she’d meant she hadn’t been having a good time with him - _+_ “I meant when _Darren_ grabbed me the _second_ time,” she responded, playfully nudging his elbow as she strode past him.

“Oh, _right,_ ” Scott laughed, his chest feeling much lighter now that she had clarified her meaning, “-yeah, I mean, _I_ would have too – he’s not a very _good_ dancer,” Scott tittered, lightly jogging to catch up with her.

“And you’re _so_ much better, Scott?” Hope fired back mischievously, as they drew nearer the end of the street, she threw him a look of pure devilry that sent a shot of heat _rocketing_ through him. She waited for his eventual response, her eyes glittering enticingly at him in the dim halogen glow from the streetlights, _Oh, this should be good,_ she thought to herself amusedly.

His masculine pride somewhat wounded by her barb, he found himself responding without really thinking it through, “ _Well,_ I mean dancing next to you, _anyone_ would look like a bad dancer!” Hope frowned a little at this - the smirk that had been plastered on her face beginning to die down and Scott wished he _had_ thought it through before he’d opened his mouth. His heart began to hammer within his chest while he waited for what would _surely_ be an angry rebuke. _Dumb, Scott,_ he chided himself, _Real dumb. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

_The rebuke never came._

“ _Did you…_ just give me a _compliment_ , Lang?” Hope probed, her voice filled with an unreadable emotion.

Regaining his verbal footing quickly, Scott shrugged her question off, “I mean, you _could_ take it as one,” he replied, giving her a shit-eating grin. It earned him a playful bat to the chest from her right arm.

“So, isn’t there a cab supposed to be here?” She asked, when they came to the road end and found _no sign_ of their ‘carriage’ as Scott had so eloquently termed their ride home.

 _Damn it,_ he grumbled at himself, awareness setting in that he must have called the _less_ reliable cab company.

“ _About that,_ ” Scott began, earning him an exaggerated and prolonged eye roll from his shorter partner, “-I may have _accidentally, kind of, sort of_ called the wrong cab company. _By mistake._ ” The scowl Hope gave him caused him to throw his hands up in defence while he tried to come up with an acceptable solution to their predicament.

“So, what now? _We walk?_ ” Hope asked – her tone dripping with unimpressed sarcasm, hugging herself in the chill of the night air – even with his hooded top on.

“We walk…” Scott continued, still formulating a plan, “-until we come across a phone booth or an on-duty cab, I mean – with a party still in full flow in the area, we’re bound to pass _one_ , right?”

Mulling the proposal over, Hope slowly nodded her agreement – but not before interjecting with some very _legitimate_ concerns. “ _Fine,_ makes sense I suppose – but we passed through some _not great_ areas on the way here. What happens if we end up having to walk through one, or more, of those?”

“Well, that’s why I’ve got you,” Scott retorted, with lightning speed, “ _-for protection._ ”

Hope fell into hilarity at his comment, somewhat refreshed by its apparent honesty. From what she had seen so far of Scott Lang, he was more of a lover than a fighter – preferring instead to _talk_ his way out of a situation _first_ , if he could. Not that this was something she minded much. Certainly, in comparison to her father’s example - which was largely the opposite - it had been a pleasant change in perspective.

“Well then, _princess,_ ” she smiled fiendishly at him, “-let’s get you home safe, then.”

“ _Hey!_ ” Scott grumbled, beginning to fall behind now that she had gained the upper hand in their banter. He followed after her when she started to cross the street and by the time he had caught her up again, he had goofily decided, “You’ll have to _catch_ me first - _tagyou’reit!_ ”

Hope stood on the sidewalk for a moment while he got the first few strides of his sprint away, staring at where he had just lightly slapped her in the arm before declaring they were now playing a child’s game, then her competitive nature kicked in and she tore off down the street after him, “ _Get back here, Lang!_ ”

Scott felt the thrill rushing through his veins when he spotted her over his shoulder starting to give chase after him. Neither of the two spotted Paxton’s car stopped at the next set of traffic lights. Inside, Maggie and her boyfriend watched – incredulously - as Scott Lang ran past them, yelling, “ _Try_ and _keep up_ , Hope!” at a furious looking Hope Van Dyne.

“ _Oh my God!_ Is that-?” Maggie asked, turning to Paxton, with a look of bewilderment on her face.

“Looks like…” he replied, shaking his head in disbelief at the scene playing out outside of the car.

“ _Do you think we should-?_ ” She began to ask, before he fixed her with a look of that screamed ‘what are you thinking…’.

“ _Nope,_ ” he replied, cutting her off, “-he’s a big boy, he can sort out his own mess.” They both fell into a fit of giggles then as the pursued and pursuer rounded the corner – shouted taunts still ringing out into the night.

Having made up some ground with his head start, Scott spotted a darkened doorway to duck into, figuring he might be able to give Hope a small fright when she reached it. He pressed himself into the shaded space and listened carefully over the sound of the occasional passing car until he heard her footsteps slow to a walk, obviously searching for him in the streetscape. “Scott?” she called into the dark, pacing nearer – a waver of uncertainty in her voice.

 _Now,_ he decided and sprang out of the doorway, grabbing her shoulders from behind. _Bad call,_ he realised dimly - before he could even get the word ‘boo’ out, he’d been smacked in the groin, smacked in the jaw by her elbow and was now somehow flat on his back on the ground in front of her, rolling around in agony.

“Oh my God – _are you okay?_ ” she cried, coming to her senses and out of her training, rushing over to his aid, “- _you idiot!_ ”

“ _There_ it is,” Scott winced, in a winded voice, “-the famous Van Dyne _hospitality_.”

“Are you _hurt?_ ” she asked him, beginning to help him up as the immediate pain from his nethers subsided.

“ _Nothing but my pride,_ ” he chuckled – earning him a bemused look from his friend – before he tasted the thick, iron-salt of blood on his lips and realised that she must have bust it open when she’d hit him, “-I’ll maybe have a few shiners though…”

“Want me to kiss them better for you, _princess?_ ” she shot back at him, catching him off-guard and feeling a small sense of victory at having gained the upper hand again.

“Oh, _would you?_ ” he asked in feigned-but-not- _totally_ -feigned enthusiasm, rallying again after a moment once the initial shock of her comment had died down, leaning down with pursed lips. She tapped him gently in the mouth with her raised index finger – held out in stern warning.

“Seriously though, _what_ were you _thinking?_ ” She pressed, rounding on him with partial embarrassment at having struck him, hands firmly on her hips as she planted herself in front of him. Although, she was also somewhat relieved that her training hadn’t been for just inside of class – she’d been able to _respond_ when it had _counted_. Which was a _win_ in her book.

“ _Well,_ most girls would _scream_ and then we’d both laugh when they realised it wasn’t a mugger or a monster – you know, like happens when you get a fright in a haunted house thing?” he admitted, as they continued, albeit more slowly, on their way home.

“Well, I hate to break it to you Scott, but I’m _not_ most girls,” Hope snorted, fixing him with a look that seemed to ask, ‘ _that_ worked on other girls?’.

Scott registered her words and even whilst still nursing his injured jaw, recognised the greater depth of what her remark told him. She really _wasn’t_ most girls - Hope was so much _more_ than that. It took a minute or two of her having been stopped dead and staring at him, to bring him out of his reflection of the matter, “ _Earth to Lang_ – I said I was _sorry_ , okay? Can I get you a coffee or something, to make up for it?” then following it up with a practical solution, “ _–besides,_ they might have a phone so we could call a cab.”

“Oh, _uh,_ yeah – that’s a great idea! I think I remember passing a diner at the next corner, if we’re lucky it might still be open,” Scott replied with a grin and the two continued on their way until they could make out the neon sign for the coffee shop was still on and that the lights inside were still spilling out onto the sidewalk outside.

The bell chimed above them as they entered, both quickly scanning around for a booth until Hope tugged his sleeve to signal that she’d found one. Sliding inside, they only sat for a few moments until a chirpy waitress came to take their orders – a mint tea for Hope and an Americano for Scott. “ _Tea drinker,_ huh?” Scott asked, trying to continue the small talk from before the scuffle outside.

“Yeah, herbal mainly – mint’s my favourite, always helps me chill out,” she answered, flashing him a small smile, before looking away shyly. He’d never really figured out _why,_ but she was always a little introverted whenever he asked her little things about herself. Unimportant things. Things that were still _precious_ and _dear_ to _him,_ though. _Maybe she’s not used to people showing this much of a genuine interest,_ he wondered sadly. He didn’t have to wait long though, before she returned the favour - in typical Hope fashion, “Never figured you as a _coffee_ drinker though, especially something with a little bit of _class_ ,” she admitted, before _gracefully_ following it up with, “I seriously thought you’d have asked for a _Gatorade_ instead…”

“ _I can be classy,_ ” Scott scoffed, playing up the offense in his tone, “-besides I read somewhere that it’s full of flavour and I’d have to agree…” he added, before he enjoyed a long sip from the steaming drink, not missing the surprised look on her face, “ _Oh,_ don’t look so shocked Hope – _I can read!_ ”

His companion loudly cracked up at that.

“ _Well,_ I’m glad to _hear_ it, Mr Lang,” came the familiar voice of Mr Parker from the next booth over, peering above the seat as their eyes now locked, “-because I hope you’ve done _all_ the reading for this week’s assignment?”

Hope and Scott froze. Running into a teacher, outside of school and at _this_ hour, had been entirely unexpected. And _neither_ initially knew how to react. Scott recovered a little more quickly though and settled into a jovial greeting, “Hi, Mr Parker – as a matter of fact, _I have,_ ” he responded. _A lie. A total lie._ But one Scott stored mentally so that he _knew_ he would have to be able to back it up when they started school again the next week, as his teacher had a memory like a steel trap – nothing escaping it easily.

“ _Is that so?_ ” chuckled his young English teacher good-naturedly.

Scott had been unprepared for Hope’s deft use of her sweet-as-pie new girl act though, or how she navigated their way onto another topic so sure-footedly when she spotted that he was struggling a bit with the unexpected encounter with a faculty member, “Oh, Mr Parker – what a _lovely_ surprise!”

“Nice to see you too, Miss Van Dyne,” the older male smiled back at her friendlily, before he glanced past them and gave a nervous smile, hurriedly making his excuses to leave, “ _Well,_ I’ll see you both on Monday then…”

Scott followed his eyeline to see that _Miss Reilly_ had appeared back at the counter, paying a bill. _That’s weird…_ he noted dimly.

He could have applauded Hope’s coup de grace though, “Were you out on a _date_ Mr Parker?” she asked sweetly and as Scott frowned in confusion at her, she gestured with her eyes towards Mr Parker’s collar and then over to where Miss Reilly stood. Cottoning on, his eyes roamed until he could make out the faint outline of a poorly concealed lipstick mark and he had to stifle a childish giggle as the penny dropped. His teachers were _dating_. _This was too good…_

“ _Hmm?_ Oh, no, goodness – we were, _uh_ , just coming back from a, _uh,_ _staff meeting…_ ” Mr Parker fumbled, his cheeks tinting red with discomfiture. Although, his hazel eyes had flashed over to where the older brunette woman stood, smiling back at him broadly with a questioning look on her face when she spotted the two students.

“ _Uh huh…_ ” Scott replied, giving a knowing nod, before his teacher sheepishly waved them off and hurried over to where his _not-date_ was waiting by the door, “-don’t work _too hard_ , sir!” he called after him, like a total wise-ass.

“Are you _trying_ to get landed with detention?” Hope asked, between bouts of juvenile giggles. Scott and her then exchanged a look as they watched the two walk off and get into Miss Reilly’s car. _Together._ After which, the teenagers promptly burst into a fit of laughter.

They enjoyed their warm drinks and then as Scott went to go and book the right cab company, Hope went to settle their bill. She didn’t spot the way he kept sneaking glances at her as he made the booking. Once their tasks were completed, they returned to waiting at their booth until the cab pulled up outside, settling once more into gentle chit chat again.

“I had a good time tonight,” Hope admitted, worrying the sleeve of his hoodie again, “-thanks for inviting me.”

“I had a good time _too,_ ” Scott chuckled, enjoying the sight of her in his clothing – like she wore some small piece of his heart. “You know – you’re welcome to hang out with us _more_ if you want, outside of school too,” he started to say, his mind not entirely sure of the words currently coming out of his mouth – as if he were having an out of body experience. _Uh-oh, Scott, what are you doing?_ he berated himself, _-this is madness._ The young woman opposite him seemed to be taking a while to think it over, so he braced himself for the worst.

“ _Really?_ ” Hope answered, a happy sunlight-bright smile gracing her features that caused his heart to feel light as air.

“ _Sure,_ ” he grinned back at her, then remembering her surprise at his telling her that he played baseball and plucked up the courage to invite her to his next inter-school game, “In fact, I’ve got a big game coming up soon – us against another school, you should _totally_ come - Luis and the guys will all be there.”

“When is it?” she asked with genuine interest and Scott had to moderate the elation he felt, as he didn’t want her to think he was being too forward.

“ _Next weekend_ – the Saturday, game starts at 5,” he answered, waiting to see what her response would be.

“I’ll need to check with Dad, but I can always _sneak out_ I guess,” she shrugged, wearing a small smile as she said it – trying her best to contain any excitement she felt at having _real friends_ at her new school.

 “ _Awesome!_ ” Scott beamed back at her, but a part of him wishing he’d had enough courage to admit that _‘I’d love to have you there.’_

The cab pulled up outside and sensing they should get on their way, Scott moved to stand, bowing to her playfully, “ _Your carriage awaits milady._ ”

She rose, firing him a vixen-ish smile as she haughtily retorted, “After you, _princess…_ ”

If Scott had been any other boy, he might have taken real offense at such emasculating sarcasm. He _wasn’t_ though and instead of being irritated by it, he seemed to enjoy the closeness that their bantering and bickering brought. The way that only he seemed capable of evoking that side of her and the way that she seemed to give him looks that evoked a feeling in him he was only just beginning to _sort-of, kind-of_ acknowledge. Looks that whispered of an _intoxicating_ possibility.

 _Hoooooooo boy,_ Scott thought, as his eyes ran over her form while he followed her outside, _-it’s going to be a long night._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's read/been reading so far - I really enjoy getting your comments! :)
> 
> I've been listening and adding to the party playlist and I feel it's now going to start informing other parts of the story.
> 
> I can't wait to start working up the next chapter from the outline I've got planned, but this one was an absolute blast to write, so I hope you all enjoy it as much as I loved writing it for you!
> 
> Hope to see you all at the next update! :) Feel free to ask any burning questions you might have as well - I'll answer what I can! :)


	7. Oh... OH!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott arrives home.
> 
> The morning after the party and both of our faves continue to process the party.
> 
> Baseball kit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can only apologise for this chapter being so late...
> 
> Life got in the way and I have been crazy busy and lacking energy for a while, Finally though - and without tempting fate - things seem to have calmed somewhat enough for me to find time to continue this story.
> 
> Thank you all for being so patient with me and I hope it has been worth the - unintentionally - lengthy wait!

It was with some surprise that Scott found he had managed to largely escape any further questioning from his parents after returning home. Instead, he earned only a raised eyebrow from his father when they ran into each other as Scott locked up the front door after getting in. He hastily explained that he’d ended up having a few at the party and wanted to go back and collect the car the next day. Despite being _underage_ , Robert and Grace largely turned a blind eye to Scott having the occasional drink at a party amongst his peers, with the _express_ understanding that Scott was _responsible_ about it. He was under _no_ circumstances to attempt to drive while under the influence and was to stay _out_ of trouble with the police or _otherwise_. The latter wasn’t always the easiest to keep away from, but he’d at least managed to stay out of trouble with the law.

_Mostly._

Sprawling backwards onto his bed after he kicked his shoes off, he heard the _‘brrrrt’_ of his phone’s vibration against the nightstand, jolting his closed eyes open again. He scrambled to grab it and his eyes were met with a message from Hope which sent his heart a-thrum with joy once more.

_Hope – Listen, I just wanted to say thanks for lending me your hoodie and making sure I got home okay_ _😊._

Scott’s chest swelled with pride reading her note - a gentle warmth spreading within it as a small smile played on his lips. He started and re-started his response about five times, before replying awkwardly.

_Scott – No worries, Cinderella. Glad you were able to join us at the party!_

His heart rate increased exponentially when the bouncing dots signalled that Hope had begun to type her response, then vanished before reappearing a few moments later. Then vanished again. He sat at the edge of his bed, waiting. _And waiting._ The minutes slowly slid by and _still_ no response came through. A heavy, weighted feeling then began to settle like icy chains around his heart and he realised that she probably _wasn’t_ going to respond. The smile that had been on his face, slowly began to fade and he resignedly set his phone down on his nightstand.

_Maybe she’s just tired?_ The small voice of his inner monologue asked, in a soothing tone before adding, _-it is pretty late…_

He slowly hauled himself up with a grunt and began to strip off and get ready for bed, wandering through to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He noticed dully as he glanced up into the mirror, that his lip had finally stopped bleeding, but looked swollen. He paused his brushing then and with slow realisation setting in as he continued to inspect his busted lip, Scott belatedly recognised that _that_ was what his dad must have raised his eyebrows at.

_Oh my God…_ Scott groaned internally, pressing his forehead against the cool mirror _-they probably think that Hope did this…_ Shuddering in horror at the thought, then spitting out the toothpaste and rinsing off his brush, Scott took a closer examination of battered mouth and decided it’d be fine if he left it. _Well, she kind of did, but not the way they’re thinking…_ he recalled, with a brief smirk of amusement.

He cleaned off the remaining dried blood gently, before sauntering back across the landing into his bedroom. The low rumble of distant conversation between his parents drifted up the staircase as he slowly and quietly shut his bedroom door behind himself. He paused there for a moment, leaning backwards against it in the and gently ‘thumping’ the back of his head off the inner face of the door whilst letting out an exasperated sigh. He _knew_ they’d both be cross-examining him come the morning.

His phone buzzed loudly, startling him with the unexpected noise. He rushed towards it, snatching it up as he went, before flopping down in a slight roll onto his bed.

_Hope – I am too_ _😊 Let me know if you want a lift to go get the pumpkin tomorrow? It’s the least I can do after earlier..._

Scott’s heart did a somersault inside his ribcage. She was _actually_ suggesting they spend time with each other. Outside of school. Then Scott’s mind drifted back to the hawkish Mr Pym. He wasn’t sure he’d survive a car ride with Hope’s father after getting her home late - let alone another encounter – even if it hadn’t been _his_ fault. Then again, he hadn’t seen the patriarch’s car in the driveway when the cab pulled onto Hope’s street, so maybe they _had_ gotten away with it.

_Still…_ Scott found himself wondering wordlessly.

_Scott – I… uh… didn’t know you could drive?_

The dancing ellipses which appeared near-instantaneously after Scott sent his message to her, let him know that he’d pushed one of Hope’s buttons. He quickly started to panic – his pulse growing louder in his ear. Instead though, her response was unexpected.

_Hope – Well, there’s a *lot* of things you don’t know I can do_ _😉…_

Scott wasn’t sure how to reply to that. Hope never had a problem with knowing _exactly_ how to word her responses and leave him floundering whilst looking for his own. The tone of her message had left him sleepless for a good while afterward.

 

* * *

 

Hope crept downstairs quietly for breakfast the next morning and to try and get Scott’s hoodie in the wash without her father noticing. Hank hadn’t been in when Scott had had the cab driver drop her off first _and_ she’d been too wiped when she’d gotten in to stay awake for long, listening for the distinctive sound of the Triumph pulling into the driveway. Still, that _didn’t_ mean that he hadn’t come in much later.

Cautiously, she nudged the door to the kitchen and dining area open with her the toes of her right foot and on hearing no morning greeting for her father, ducked her head inside. After a quick glance around she spotted a coffee cup on the table, but noted no steam emitting or newspaper nearby, meaning it was likely from last night.

_Hopefully, that means dad’s still in bed,_ Hope thought to herself as she swiftly and carefully made for the utility room door at the back of the large kitchen. Her hand on the doorknob, she slowly turned it open and pushed slowly and gently to avoid it making its usual ‘alarm’ call. She couldn’t help but grin to herself when she got it past the 45-degree opening mark and it _hadn’t_ squeaked or groaned.

Until it _did_.

“ _Good morning,_ _Hope,_ ” greeted the voice of Hank Pym from the vicinity of one of the chairs facing the living room oriole window, making her freeze as soon as it reached her ears.

_Busted…_ Hope sighed, spinning on her heel slowly to face his gaze, which was presently craned over the back of his seat, in her direction.

“-have _fun_ last night?” he asked - and she couldn’t tell whether he was merely trying to make conversation - or whether he _knew_ that she hadn’t been home by the time she’d agreed with him. The look in his eyes nudged her towards the latter. She had to focus on a spot on the horizon behind him to try and prevent herself from shuffling from foot to foot nervously, but it was for nought the moment her father’s gaze travelled down to the bundled up hooded top she held under her arm. When Hope still hadn’t answered his question, he supplied one for her. A restrained chuckle rippling through his voice, “ _-guess you did_.”

Hope turned beet red as she tried to come up with a defence, but the words died on her tongue. Hank’s eyes narrowed fractionally at the sight of Scott’s clothing, before she heard him shuffling his newspaper and turning back to start reading it once more. She stood rooted there for another few moments, before she decided that she wouldn’t be able to improve the situation, so began creeping back towards the utility room.

“I just want you to be _safe_ , Hope.” Those words alone and the way Hank spoke them, let her know he knew _exactly_ what time she had gotten home last night and worse still, that he _definitely_ suspected _something_ had happened between her and Scott last night. She wanted the ground to open up beneath her right then, thumping her forehead slowly off of the window on the washer door, mortified.

She drew in a deep breath before setting about getting the washer set up, placing Scott’s hoodie down on the countertop next to the machine. Then, lifting the load that had been put in by the maid on delay the previous evening and setting that into the dryer below the washer. Once she had that on, she picked up the red and grey garment and moved it into the washer, catching a waft of pleasant cedar from it as she placed it in the drum and closed the door.

Without really thinking, she opened the door and reached in to retrieve it a few seconds later. This time she hugged it to her chest, gently crushing the fabric to her face and inhaled deeply. Luxuriating in the smell, she was immediately transported back to that moment on the dancefloor the previous night.

She could feel the heat of his skin in the few places that they had touched during their dancing. The slight callousing to his hands as he gently slid them to her back. Even though Scott was what some would call lean, Hope could feel the sinewy muscles to his arms and the planes of his chest as they moved together. His smile was his characteristic gentle and goofy grin, but something glinted in the green of his eyes that took her breath away and then he almost-

_She had nearly kissed him._ Scott and she were _friends_. _Good friends._

Hope shook herself to clear her head but felt the undeniable smile that had formed on her lips from the memory of their dance. And a tingling to them that she didn’t want to acknowledge. She hoped she hadn’t just _ruined_ that friendship by pushing their boundaries. It hadn’t seemed like Scott had minded, but he was so easy-going and _nice_ that she wasn’t sure he would have said if he _had_. She screwed her eyes shut, pushing the heels of her palms into her eyes in frustration and drew in a few slow breaths to still herself again. Her rational faculties taking over once more, Hope convinced herself it was going to be _fine_ and that she’d get Scott back his hoodie and everything would go back to _normal_ again _._

_It was just the alcohol, right?_   She told herself as she went to go get her breakfast. And face her father again. Hope squared her shoulders as she left the utility room, looking much braver than she felt.

 

* * *

 

Hope had spent a generally quiet rest of the morning with Hank, peppered occasionally by him asking about how the party was. It had been unusually _pleasant_ between them both.

Normally, it would be painfully awkward and almost entirely silent, save for the occasional attempt from Hank at sparking a conversation about her studies. Other subjects seemed to be just painful, especially since her father no longer seemed able to navigate them without the gentle, but deft guidance of her mother. Both of their worlds had been cast adrift since that day and they had never really been able to right their course from then.

The young woman had made her way back upstairs once the mid-morning sun had grown less coppery and streamed in pale gold shades through the canopy of the trees opposite their home and through her bedroom window. A casual glance in the direction of her phone informed her that she had received several messages since she last checked it. One each from Luis, Kurt and Dave – with each checking she had gotten home okay. One from Darren, apologising for not having checked on her sooner after the incident with Beckah – a small pang of guilt struck her then, noting that perhaps she should have let him know she had been okay, she swiped the message away, making a mental note to follow up on it later. Finally, her eyes skimmed over the text from Scott.

_Scott – Okay, granted, I do NOT know if you can drive but I stayed awake for a bit when I got in and came up with a list of all the things I can’t do. I’ve decided if you ever have a rough time like what happened with Beckah, again, I’ll send you ONE thing off of it each time. This first one is for free – just to start you off. Let me know when you read this, and I’ll send it on :P_

Hope stifled a laugh when she finished reading it and her fingers hovered over the keyboard on her screen. _He’s such a dork,_ she smiled to herself, before beginning to formulate her reply.

_Hope – I’m more impressed you were able to come up with an entire list. All on your own! :O_

A few minutes went by without a response, so she returned her attention to getting ready – disappearing into her closet to look through her clothes for today’s outfit. Her olive-toned eyes scanned along the rails and in the drawers inside as she began working her way through them. She eventually settled on a black mesh shirt with a black tank top over it and a pair of ripped-knee grey jeans. She slung over that en a navy-blue duster and slipped on a pair of cloud-grey hi tops. Once that was done, she moved over to her mirror and swept her hair back into a rough-textured ponytail and quickly put on her makeup – just enough to accentuate her eyes and lips, without appearing gaudy. Satisfied with her appearance, she checked her phone again and saw that Scott had fired back a response while she had been busy.

_Scott – I’ll have you know that I’m self-aware enough to reflect on my shortcomings Miss Van Dyne! Okay, here goes… No. 1 – I can’t make toast without cremating several slices in the process._

Hope let out a near-cackle of laughter at his admission. It was just _such_ a Scott thing to admit. Part of her admired his earnestness and ability to laugh at himself and the other could not wrap her head around how he could fail to cook even the simplest of foods. _The clue was in the name._ It was _toasted_ bread. Once she’d stopped laughing, she decided to let him know she was about to set off on the way over to his, before they went to go and pick up his dad’s work pickup.

_Hope – Wow, Lang, just wow. I think I’ll need the time on the ride over to process that… Just about to head off, can you send me your address?_

She slipped her phone into the pocket of her duster and grabbed her satchel off the hook on the back of her door, before she ran downstairs, her gaze on the steps. She called out to Hank as she made her way downwards, “I’m heading out to give Scott a lift over to get his dad’s pickup, I’ll be back later…”

“Thought I’d come with you,” came her father’s craggy voice from in front of her, causing her foot to falter on the bottom step. Hope’s eyes snapped up to his at the sound, startled for a beat. Her mind flew to begin giving reasons why that wasn’t necessary, but her expression must have given her away, as he raised a hand to halt her. “-don’t look so surprised, after what _little_ you _did_ tell me about your _shenanigans_ last night, I just want to get a look at the neighbourhood this – _Scott_ – stays in…”

_Of course,_ Hope grumbled inwardly, _he’s decided now is the time to begin playing the interested father. Worse still, he’s making assumptions about Scott’s circumstances…_

Hank watched for a moment, his face tilting slightly to the side as his blue-grey eyes tried to read her reaction. He looked like he was observing a subject in one of his experiments.  Swallowing down the irritation she felt, Hope plastered as genuine a smile as she could muster onto her face and stepped up next to her dad. “Well, come on then…”

 

* * *

 

Scott’s morning had likewise been largely uneventful, despite his fear of being cross-examined from the previous night. Other than the frequent amused looks shared between his parents, which he caught every so often, neither had asked much more than general questions about how the party had been. Deciding not to count his blessings too soon, he wolfed down his breakfast – a heaped plate of eggs and bacon – thanked Grace with a peck on her cheek and swiped up a slice of un-incinerated toast before launching himself upstairs in the direction of his bedroom.

He missed the conspiratorial whispering of his mother and father after he legged it out of the dining room.

Seeing the timestamp of Hope’s last message when he checked his phone, Scott figured he had enough time to get together his things for baseball practice before spotting his pitcher’s mitt and bat still sitting on his desk. Stowing those away, he slipped on his uniform and boots, a tinge of self-consciousness beginning to stain his cheeks. He prayed silently that Hope wouldn’t make a big deal out of it and repeated to himself internally that he’s already told her he played. He just neglected to mention that the uniform had bright yellow and black sports striping running up the sides. _Or_ the yellow and black ringed socks.

In all honesty, he sometimes found their team’s uniform garish, but Coach Barton _insisted_ that it helped their game. The other team would sometimes find their eye too drawn by the bright colours and miss a movement here or a change in stance there.

He swallowed roughly; his mouth suddenly dry. Deep down he knew he shouldn’t be _this_ concerned by what Hope thought and that the worst she would do would be to rib him. _She’s my friend after all, isn’t she?_ he asked himself, hypothetically.

The quick quadruple-honk of a car horn shook Scott from his introspection, and he leapt over to the window to see the vintage Triumph pulling up outside.

He grinned on seeing Hope get out of the car. She glanced back at the car for a moment, seeming to hesitate, before walking up the path to the front door with a swish-swish of her long ponytail. Scott stood watching her, for longer than was _really_ necessary, a not entirely unpleasant sensation settling in his ribcage. The muffled exchange of voices floated up the stairs to him and with a sudden pit of dread dropping in his stomach, he realised his parents had _both_ greeted Hope at the door.

“Scott! Hope’s here to give you your ride,” called his mother from downstairs.

“Aren’t you going to come say hello?” came the voice of his father, Robert, a second after when Scott hadn’t appeared immediately at his mother’s message.

Scott released a lengthy sigh, before grabbing his baseball kit bag and slung it casually over his right shoulder, heading for the stairs he slowly made his way down. “Coming!” he yelled, as he descended.

He was met with the sight of Hope in genial conversation with his parents, politely answering the questions they were asking: how had she settled into San Franciscan life? How was she finding school? Had their son _behaved_ himself last night? He fought the urge to roll his eyes theatrically at that, especially when he spotted Hope nervously placing a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.

“Alright, you can _stop_ interrogating my friend now…” Scott grumbled loudly, drawing all eyes currently standing in the Lang entry hall, to him. His parents’ friendly expressions poorly hid the devilry in their eyes from him - likely at their son’s characteristic annoyance at their questioning. Hope’s eyes however, widened almost imperceptibly at his present appearance – something that didn’t _totally_ escape Scott’s sight – then her face settled into giving him a small smile of thanks, before looking away suddenly.

“ _Well,_ it was nice meeting you, Hope,” Grace commented, the light crow’s lines around her eyes crinkling with her smile.

“Hopefully we’ll see _more_ of you?” continued Robert, a small mischievous chuckle to his voice as he watched both teenagers stiffen and redden at the implication of his tone.

“Okay, well, _goodbye,_ ” Scott rushed out abruptly as he marched for the door, his hand instinctively reaching out to tug Hope through with him as he opened it. He gently swung her out before himself and, standing on the top front step outside, he gestured with his index and middle fingers in a ‘v’ to his folks that he was onto them and then closed the door.

Even through the solid timber and glass, he could hear their loud laughter inside.

Hope waited for him, a question playing on her features while her blush receded.

Scott stared at the brickwork forming the top step and his baseball boots upon them, “ _Uhh…_ so _those_ are my parents. Sorry about that…” he uttered his apology to the young woman, rubbing the back of his neck absentmindedly as he did.

“They seemed _nice,_ ” she replied in a sweet tone, stepping nearer to him to place her hand softly on his upper arm – trying to reassure him the interaction with his folks had been fine.

“They are, they just try to mess with me whenever they can,” he answered, firing her a lopsided smile in response and doing his best not to show how much the small act of Hope’s touch had done to calm him. “Let’s get going, before they make things any more… _uncomfortable_ …” her companion announced, before starting down towards her car.

Not that she _hadn’t_ noticed inside, but as she watched Scott’s retreating form from behind, her eyes ran appreciatively down it. Hope’s eyes drifted down from the kitbag that swung loosely to the tempo of his gait, across to the tautness of his undershirt against his arms then diagonally from there down to the calves which were _much_ more defined than she was aware of. As her gaze worked its way back up, it lingered on the tight fabric covering his rear, following the movement of it for a few steps more until the audible blast of the car horn slammed her back to reality with a crimson flush.

It had startled Scott too and his head swung round at the sound, then spun back to the see the flustered Hope trailing behind him, before returning to the car. _Then_ he _saw_ it.

In the driver’s seat sat Hank Pym.

_Well this journey will be delightful…_ Scott muttered to himself under his breath, picking up the pace towards the car. Hope power-walked past him, her gaze fixed straight ahead, and he registered then that she was blushing once more. _Profusely. I wonder what that’s about…_ he wondered to himself silently as she walked around to the front passenger seat and slid in quietly.

As Scott opened the door to back seat behind Hank, he caught the tail end of what he was saying, “-did you not _realise_ I could see you _staring_ at him, Hope?”

_Oh,_ Scott thought, his gaze meeting Hope’s for a moment - broken only by Hank’s hawk-like eyes glancing between them while he released a cantankerous sigh, before starting the car. Stealing another look at her, to try to confirm his forming suspicion, Scott caught her watching him too, before she quickly turned away.

_OH!,_ he realised when the penny dropped, a small thrill rushing through him at this new piece of knowledge.

Hope might have _liked_ what she had seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's read/been reading so far and just another apology to you all for this update being so delayed.
> 
> Hopefully you enjoyed it and the wait wasn't overly long...
> 
> Hooooo boy, I think it's beginning to steam up a bit between these two!
> 
> Hope to see you all at the next update! :) Feel free to ask any burning questions you might have as well - I'll answer what I can! :)

**Author's Note:**

> Well, hopefully some folks liked it. I do love the movie Scott and Hope very much. They are dear to my heart, as are the rest of the Ant-crew.
> 
> If you DID enjoy it, please let me know. Also, feel free to ask any burning questions you migjt have - I'll answer what I can! :)


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